Finally a Tomorrow
by presidentuziel
Summary: The future of Sera and its colonies looks as bloody as its past. Twenty years after the end of the Imulsion War, the humans of Sera has stolen Mass Effect technology from Batarian and Krogan slavers, and launches a war to establish a human presence in space. As the Batarian/Human war begins, an old enemy returns, and the humans finally ask the Council for help.
1. Marcus's Tomorrow

The morning light shined on Marcus's face. Normally he was up before the sun, but this was the weekend. He felt no rush to get up today. Even though he'd been sleeping in this bed for almost two years now…It still felt like the first time in eighteen years that he'd slept in a real bed. He was warm, comfortable, and happy. That thought alone woke him up. Marcus was happy, and it actually worried him. He'd spent his life in a state of rage, anger, and fear. And now he was happy. Marcus shook the idea out of his head. SO many people had fought and died for him to have this. He wasn't going to mope.

The fuss of the baby was pretty much the deciding factor in his rising. Anya sighed, and rolled over, but Marcus was already sitting up.

"Don't get up, I've got it," he said to her, and he put on a shirt. The baby's room was adjacent to theirs, and Marcus picked up the three-month old baby boy. He still didn't have a name, but they had time. Marcus looked to the fields, the cattle already wandering out of the barn. His father had told Marcus to live his life, so he'd chosen to live simply. Gardening has been Dom's thing, but ranching? Marcus could handle cattle, and there was a serious demand for things like milk and meat. They even had ranch hands. These lands had once been possible Imulsion fields, waiting to be harvested for the stuff beneath. Now that there was no Imulsion, the land was good for growing, and that was about it.

The baby clung to his father, knowing he was in safe hands. Marcus pulled one of the baby bottles from the fridge and placed it in the baby's mouth, and the child took it from there. Anya finally emerged from the bedroom, rubbing her eye. She smiled at the sight of Marcus holding the child, and started on the morning meal.

"You know, eventually we're going to have to get him schooling," Marcus said.

"Before we worry about that, we should worry about a _name,_" Anya pointed out, "We can't keep calling him 'Boy' forever."

"That's true…Nothing's come to mind, though…"

"Well, we could name him after Dom, or your father," she suggested. Marcus was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Nah," Marcus sighed, "I don't want to dwell too much on the past. Naming him after them would be doing just that. We should think of something new."

Marcus took the bottle out of his son's mouth to get a better look at him. The boy didn't cry, instead he grabbed for the bottle in defiant stubbornness.

"How about Franklin? He looks like a Frank, don't you think?" Marcus asked.

"Franklin Fenix?" Anya asked, "Not as poetic as Marcus or Adam, but it's a good name."

"Franklin Adam Fenix," Marcus suggested, "How about that?"

"Remembering without dwelling?"

"Sure, I guess. It just sort of rolls off the tongue, you know?"

Anya set a plate of food in front of Marcus, smiling.

"Franklin," she agreed, offering to take Frank. Instead, Marcus re-adjusted the baby, so that he could eat with one hand and hold the baby in the other. Nineteen years of duty as a Gear, Marcus had the coordination for it. Franklin didn't protest. Anya felt a similar pang of sudden worry that Marcus had felt earlier, but similarly dismissed it. This was her tomorrow, and nothing would stand in the way of that, and she turned her attention to her own plate of breakfast. They ate in a comfortable, pregnant silence. About halfway through their meal, there was a knock on the door.

"I swear, if those knuckleheads broke another yoke, I'm going to break another one over their asses," Marcus promised, handing Frank to his wife and opening the door, planning an intimidating 'WHAT!' to his ranch hands. Instead, it was Baird, in full Gears armor. There was an awkward silence for what felt to be a year.

"WHAT?" Marcus barked.

"Good to see you too, Marcus," Baird sighed, "It's only been two years since we last saw each other."

"You call once a week. Carmine doesn't even call that often. You're more annoying than our whiny dog. What do you want, Baird?"

"The Gears have stuck around, Marcus. They've sent out a universal draft of all capable ex-members."

"Tell them to fuck off for me, then."

"I already did, but they wanted you and Anya. I told them that you've got a kid and a ranch, and that you're more productive this way, but the fuckin' brass said that I'd better get one of you, or they're knocking me down a rank."

"And why do I give a shit about your rank?"

"You don't. I told them to stick their heads up their asses, but then they gave me this."

He hands Marcus a datapad.

"They told me that they want you and Anya. One or the other if that's the least they could get. They're afraid that the Locust might be back. Just take a look, would you? At the very least, have Anya analyze it for us, I'll tell them that's all they're going to get. I don't want to pull you away from this, I really don't. But…"

Baird shook his head.

"Sam and I agree on this, and you know how often_ that _happens. Something bad is happening, and the Gears are not going to just let it happen until it's out of hand. We're not the COG."

Marcus turned on the datapad, and took a skim, and sighed. Something _was_ happening. From what he'd caught, people were starting to go missing, entire towns.

"All right, come on. You hungry? We've still got some eggs cooked up."

"Normally I'd be polite and refuse, but I've been eating Gear rations again, I could use some fresh food," Baird admitted. Marcus led Baird inside. Anya smiled at seeing Marcus, but the smile disappeared when Baird appeared.

"Hey, Anya," Baird gave a half-wave, and she nodded in reply.

"Marcus, what's going on?"

Marcus scraped the last of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and handed it to Baird, who proceeded to attack it. Marcus sat, and followed suit.

"Something's going down. The Gears want us to help them work on it. I've no intention of getting back into uniform, Anya, but…You should take a look at this."

Anya traded Franklin for the datapad.

"Finally decide on a name?" Baird asked.

"Yeah. Franklin," Marcus replied.

"After the robot?"

"I like the name Frank," Marcus growled.

"Frank's a good name," Baird agreed quickly. Anya shook her head and sighed.

"There's no way there's not something going on," she agreed, "People are just vanishing. Signs of resistance, unknown weapons being used…No bodies except for humans that getting shot up. I don't think it's Locust or Lambent for that reason, I'd need more information to draw a real conclusion. What does this have to do with us?"

"The Gears want the best. You two are it. They want Delta Squad."

"Fuck you."

"That's what I told them. I said that I'd train and lead a new Delta Squad myself, but they wouldn't take no for an answer. At the very least they want you to read that. I've got Clayton, Cole, and Sam. I'm happy with that for a squad. But they just want to see if you're interested."

Marcus took the now-empty bottle from Franklin, and started patting him on the back.

"I've got a new life, Baird. I'm not giving it up. But I'll tell you what. Talk to our ranch-hands, and see who are willing to enlist. And I'm willing to sell to the Gears food. But I've got no reason to back to war."

"I think they'll be…Sort of satisfied with that. I'm sure they'll send some other asshole with some intelligence for you two to pick over whether you tell them to go to hell or not. Thanks for the eggs. Keep that datapad. We've been building them out of the wazoo nowadays. Let us know if you figure anything out, and…"

He took a device out from his pack, and handed it to Marcus.

"Whatever is going on, they're targeting remote areas. You guys are pretty remote. If something happens, anything, hit this button. We'll come running, and if we don't get here in time, we'll at least have gotten a notice. At least. Do you still have a Lancer or two? I've got some extra ammo for you."

"Do you want to use the barn as an ammo depot, too?" Marcus asked.

"I just want to be sure you guys stay safe. I'd hate to be the kidnappers if they're dumb enough to come after the Fenix ranch, but I'd also hate to see you guys undersupplied."

"We've got weapons," Anya promised him. Baird nodded.

"All right. Thanks for the eggs. Marcus, mind coming with me to talk to your ranch hands? I think they'd listen to you more than they would to me. I'm just some asshole…"

"Yeah. You got this handled, Anya?"

"Don't worry about it," she promised, taking Frank, "Go talk to the hands."

Marcus regarded his kitchen one more time, somewhat afraid that if he stepped outside, he'd never see it again, but followed Baird out anyway. Marcus only needed a single hand signal to tell his hands that he wanted to talk to them, and within a couple of minutes, they'd all assembled in front of the barn.

"Everyone, this is Damon Baird. He was one of my squadmates during the war. Delta squad. I've told you all the stories, so here's the man in the flesh and power armor. He's got an offer for you."

"Thanks, Marcus. Truth is, I came here to get Marcus back. I didn't think I'd be able to. And I was right. Marcus is staying right here. But command doesn't want me to walk away empty handed. Truth is, bad shit is happening, and we need Gears. I'm not a recruiter, I'm the leader of Delta Squad. All I'm going to tell you is that we need more Gears. I won't give you the bullshit. So if you've ever thought about signing up, now's the time, fellas."

Marcus said nothing, but he saw the faces of his hands. Two of them walked away and went back to their chores. Baird didn't even flinch. Another two said that they would sign up, leaving one undecided.

"I'm…I'm going to need to give it some thought," Theodore admitted, "Is there a way to contact you?"

"Fuck no, I'm going on a mission. You ever make up your mind, call the recruiter, they'll hook you up," Damon said. He motioned to the other two, "Come on, then."

Theodore couldn't look Marcus in the eye. He seemed almost ashamed.

"Come on, Theo, what's eating you?" Marcus demanded.

"Well…I've thought about it. But…" he shook his head, "I like it here, on the ranch, for one. I don't want to lose this, this…Ever since I was a kid, I've had nothing…This is the most I've ever had."

"Theo, if you get on that truck with Yassir and Rudy, and you come back, you'll still have a job here. I guarantee it. You won't lose this. I was a Gear. You know that."

Theo nodded, and bit his lip, "The other part…I'm…I don't want to die…I remember those stories about the Carmine brothers…"

"Listen to me, Theo. Ben and Anthony Carmine were Gears. Members of Delta Squad. And just because they didn't make it, doesn't mean their lives weren't worth anything. That's what service means. That's what it does."

Theo chewed on this in his head, and nodded. He looked towards Baird and his fellow ranch hands. He swallowed, and gave Marcus a nod.

"Thank you, Marcus. I'll do you proud."

"No need, Theo, you're a good kid. Go get 'em."

Theo chased after Baird and his friends, calling for them to wait up. Marcus smiled, and sighed. Now he was going to have to hire three new ranch hands.


	2. Garrison with Heroes

"You gotta be fucking kidding me…" Baird rolled his head at the sight, "Three god damn months of playing cat and mouse with command to get another squad…And this is what I get…"

Theodore Jester raised an eyebrow, and looked to Rudy Parr, his squadmate. Damon Baird seemed like he was about to shit his armor. Or pop a blood vessel. Or both. He was pretty sure it was both.

"What's the big deal? They gave us a squad of greens. We should have expected this, Baird," Sam reasoned. Theodore looked to Thomas Carmine, to make sure he wasn't gushing at the sight of his older brother in full Gear uniform and weapons. Unfortunately, he was, which Theodore was sure was not giving off a great impression to the heroes of Delta Squad.

"Well, yeah, I can accept Greens. But do you know who these Greens are, Sam? These are the same exact Greens THAT I FUCKING RECRUITED WHEN I WENT TO SEE MARCUS. I mean, that's like, I don't fucking know, like bringing your neighbor some free apples, and then they sell you a god damn apple pie. They're just being a dick. Someone is being a dick. I got a dick to cut off."

Damon stormed off, to the amusement of Cole. Theodore was doing all he could to not laugh as well. Sam gave him a smile.

"Well, don't mind Baird. He's always like that. I'm Sergeant Samantha Byrne. This is Private Augustus Cole, and Lance Corporal Clayton Carmine. That was Lieutenant Damon Baird. Why don't you sound off for us, soldier?"

"Uh, I'm Corporal Theodore Jester, leader of Hotel Squad."

"Private Rudy Parr."

"Private Yassir Akbar."

"Private Thomas Carmine."

"Oh, no…" Clayton groaned, and looked away. Cole's laughter intensified.

"Another Carmine? Oh, this is too good…" Cole was busting a gut at the idea.

"I am staying over here," Clayton announced, walking well away from his brother, "With our luck, we're going to get caught with the same fucking grenade."

Thomas seemed discouraged at his brother's reaction, and slumped. Theodore knew that he had to keep his squad lively.

"We were told to report to Lieutenant Baird for our orders, Sergeant-"

"Please, call me Sam."

"With all due respect, Sergeant, I'd rather not."

"Listen, kid, havin' a stick up yo ass ain't gonna do anyone any good. We're all Gears here, no need for titles," Cole insisted.

"At the same time, this is my first real mission, Cole. I'd rather not get too attached."

"Hey, I ain't planning on dyin'. The Locust Army couldn't do it, the Lambent couldn't do it. I don't think any spooks are gonna do in the Cole Train!"

"I suspect few dead men have ever had plans for their own demise, Cole. I have no intention of dying, and I have every confidence in Delta Squad's survivability."

Sam's eyes widened in understanding.

"Right. We're being deployed to an old Imulsion fields down by the name of Mercy. It was hit by the Spook three months ago, but there are still people there, and one of the survivors claims to have a picture of the attackers. Command didn't think this was a job for just for one squad, so here you are. Since there are still people in Mercy, Command thinks, it's likely to get hit again."

"For the same reason we're going."

"Right. We will have Hammer of Dawn support for this mission. Command is not taking chances."

Damon Baird returned, looking very pissed, grumbling to himself. He entered the truck they'd been given, and started the engine.

"Come on, Corporal, that's our cue to head out," Sam told him. There was a Vulcan minigun with the ammo pump. Hotel Squad piled into the back, while Cole took the minigun. Theodore grabbed the ammo pump. They didn't expect anything to happen on the way, but it made Theodore feel useful. Thomas was sitting near his older brother. Thomas seemed to be wanting to say something, and they could all sense it.

"I am glad to see that you became a Gear," Clayton finally broke the ice, "Anthony and Ben would be proud, too."

"Thanks, Clay. I figured, since Dad passed, it was time for me to do something. I didn't expect to be put on this mission, and I didn't ask. Honestly. I did really well in training, you don't have to look after me. I promise."

"Yeah, don't go running into open terrain, or jumping into worms," Baird sneered, and Clayton punched him in the arm. Baird held up his hand defensively, and kept his focus on the road. Eventually, they pulled into the hilly town of Mercy. There were a number of destroyed buildings. There was a stone monument of a Gear kneeling before an angel at the bottom.

"I remember last time I was in Mercy…" Sam lamented, seeing the statue. The Gears all piled out of the truck, and Delta Squad walked up to the statue.

"The statue is of Dom Santiago," Thomas whispered to the others, "He sacrificed his life to save Delta Squad here during the Lambent War. He was a good man. Clayton told me about him."

Theo didn't respond. It wasn't a particularly well-crafted statue, but it got the point across, of Delta Squad's sacrifices and valor. It finally sunk in that he was accompanying four heroes of Sera. He was under the command of _Delta Squad…_They were living legends, living pieces of history! If it weren't for them, the planet would be crawling with monsters Theodore had spent his early life running away from. After a few minutes of silence, Baird turned back to Hotel Squad.

"All right, we're going to split up. Sam, take Carmine, Stiff, and Redbeard. I'll take Dirtnose, Cole, and the noob."

"Noob?" Thomas gasped.

"Dirtnose!" Yassir growled. Theodore could understand why Yassir would be offended at being referred to with a racial pejorative.

"What? I had to think of something."

"I'm sorry, but I really don't appreciate that. Sir," Yassir said.

"And why is our squad being split up?" Thomas asked.

"Because the Lieutenant said so," Theo informed the younger Carmine, "Besides, if the Spook really is here, would you rather have Sergeant Byrne and Private Cole covering your ass, or Rudy and Yassir, who, between the two of them, have broken more cattle yokes than they have pumped a target with an entire magazine?"

"Okay, that's true…"

"Come on, Private. We're not splitting up until after we see that picture of the Spook anyway," Sam told him, and Baird led them to the main gate of the town. He gave them a wave.

"Who goes there!" the gate guard yelled. They couldn't see him.

"Lieutenant Baird, Delta Squad. We're Gears. Command sent us to pick up that picture of yours."

"Great. Come and take the last thing of value we've got, and leave us, just like in the fuckin' war!"

"Not this shit again," Baird sighed, "Listen, you Grubhole, we're here to protect your town! In fact, our orders are to become the Mercy Garrison for the next _three damn months._ So if you guys get attacked, guess who's going to be the one saving your asses?"

There was silence. 

"Not a whole hell of a lot of good you'll do anyway," the guard finally emerged from his hiding place in a building behind the gate, "We took some shots at the Spooks when they were here last. Only fucking thing that did any good were the Longshot sniper rifles and grenades. Old Man Miller says he got through their shields with a knife, but-"

"Wait, what did you say? Shields?" Baird asked.

"Yeah, they have these personal force shields that just block our every shot. If they didn't have those, I'd bet we would have slaughtered the lot of them, they weren't very good soldiers. But there wasn't a fucking thing we could do, they just came along and shot us up, grabbed some people, went into their aircraft and left."

"So they fly aircraft?" Sam asked.

"That or fucking starships, I don't know. We hit it with a Boomshot, and it didn't scratch the thing. And it just took off when they left. Up. Strait up. I've never seen anything like it. Now that I think about it, none of them ever reloaded their guns, either. One of them seemed to have overheated his assault rifle, but…"

"I think we'd better get more details inside," Baird said, "Can we meet the mayor or whatever, the guy with the photo, and this Miller fellow?"

"I'll send it along," the guard said, and he opened the gate. Baird motioned to Cole, who went to the truck, and brought it through. It had more than just the Gears themselves, but it also had a lot of ammunition and guns. Theodore found himself wishing he'd spent more time with the sniper rifle, if it was true that was the only weapon that had thusfar proven useful. He led Hotel, but walked behind Clayton as they climbed through Mercy. It was a beautiful city in its prime, he could see that, but it was half obliterated after the Spooks had hit it. It was a shame, too, since the inhabitants were obviously doing their best to rebuild the town to its former glory.

They reached the central building, which had a gaping hole blown in the top of it, but from down here, he could tell was definitely someone's office. Or had been. Someone opened the door for them, and the two Gear squads entered. A slightly rotund man smiled at their arrival.

"Ah, finally, the Gears have come! I am Ramon Rodriguez, I am the mayor of this fine town of Mercy. It, uh, has seen better days. This is Guy Miller, as you requested, and Bob Torres. He took the picture of the Spook."

"Lieutenant Damon Baird, Twenty Fourth Royal Regiment, Delta Squad. This is Sergeant Sam Byrne, and this is Corporal Theodore Jester, leader of Hotel Squad. We're your Garrison. We'll get formal introductions out of the way later, but first, I want to see that picture, and send it off to Command as soon as possible."

Bob handed Baird a datapad, and they all took a look at the Spook. He was humanoid, slimmer than any Gear or even Locust drones. It had sickly yellow skin, bright lips, four eyes, and face ridges. Its ears were set farther back than a human's, and the back of its head was striped brown.

"And I thought Grubs were ugly," Clayton remarked.

"They're not the only Spooks," Miller spoke up, "I saw another one while I was fighting one of those. It looked like he was wearing armor all over his body, including the head. It also had four eyes, hunched over like this, had a hump as big as your torso. Had to be at least eight feet tall."

"Nobody else saw it, though," the mayor insisted.

"Nobody that wasn't taken or killed. He had a shotgun and a sword almost as big as he was. People were trying to kill it, but that shotgun, he just kept shooting. Never reloaded."

"You said that you got past their shields with a knife," Baird said, "What happened?"

"Well, we were defending the sewers, to prevent the Spooks from taking the people hiding there. We got fucking slaughtered. So I took my old Lancer, and charged one of them. I stabbed him through the gut, the shields didn't even flicker, I just went right through them. Gutted the son of a bitch, really scared the hell out of the others. They charged me back and started beating the shit out of me, and when I woke up, they were all gone, including the one I'd killed. I guess they figured they didn't want anyone who managed to kill one of them."

"Well, that's good news anyway. How many Spooks were there?"

"About twenty," the guard from earlier said. Theodore didn't even see him enter, "They overwhelmed us, then would use some sort of stun weapon on people they wanted to take. They didn't seem to be in a hurry. I'm pretty sure that they had more in the area around us."

"Now how did you find out that Longshots worked on them?" Baird asked.

"I shot one. It was wearing a helmet. I saw the shield sort of snap, and I reloaded, and blew his fucking head off."

"Ahehehe," Clayton couldn't keep that in. Theodore didn't blame him.

"All right," Baird hooked up the datapad to a communication device, and sent it off, "I would ask how you got this photo, but I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Miller, you have any training?"

"I fought the Locust and the Lambent if that's what you mean. Killed my share."

"Good enough for me. You, I didn't catch your name."

"Me? Diego Castellaneta."

"If shit goes down, I want you two to meet up with us. I'm going to put in an order for a lot of Longshots and some Retro Lancers. Standing orders are to snipe or engage in melee if the Spooks come back. Blow their heads off or gut them. Oh, and just so you know," Baird gave a wicked smile, producing the Hammer of Dawn targeter, "Command's given us an edge."


	3. First Shot

All things considered, this wasn't a bad assignment. Sure, his squad had been split and shuffled into Delta, but Theodore knew he wasn't really ready to lead a squad anyway. He'd been picked for that because he'd been the top of his class out of training, he knew two of them already, and he had no doubt that Command had essentially given him to Baird. Whether it was to piss him off or because, in someone's ill-informed head, to give him some people he was familiar with, Theodore had no idea. Baird was a cantankerous man, Theodore quickly discovered, that preferred tinkering with his computers to spending time with others. The rest of Hotel Squad still looked to Theodore for leadership and instruction, but the members of Delta Squad took Hotel under their wing nonetheless.

Theodore was putting holes in a wall almost a kilometer away with the Longshot, trying to improve his accuracy. It had been a week with nothing happening. The Gears had arranged for the two squads to be put up in a pretty nice home, so they each had their own room. That pleased Baird. They were all happy to be sleeping in actual beds. Still, both squads knew to not get too comfortable, and they spent most of their time patrolling or, as Theodore was doing now, putting holes in walls nobody was making use of. They had more than enough ammo, thank goodness. Someone at Command had every confidence that Delta Squad was going to be able to put up enough resistance to make use of it.

Theodore let off another shot, and watched the stone he was aiming at explode. He took out a round and slipped it into the rifle, and slammed it shut. Perfect. He took aim again, and blew a chunk the size of a person into the wall. Booyah. He started imagining the targets as being the Spooks a while ago, and his aim got better. With any luck, if they encountered the real thing, it would do him some good when he started blowing heads off.

Theodore wasn't really paying attention, and jammed the weapon as he reloaded it. Cursing himself, he worked the weapon, and managed to get the bullet in, and he looked down the scope. He was just about to 'kill' another Spook, when he spotted something in the sky through the scope, and aimed up. It was an aircraft, faster than any he'd ever seen. It was headed right towards Mercy, too.

"Son of a bitch," he snarled, and he put his finger to his ear.

"Lieutenant, this is Jester."

"What is it, Stiff?"

"I've just spotted a high-speed aircraft, it's headed right for Mercy."

"Dammit!"

Next thing he heard, the town's alarm was going off, informing everyone to seek shelter immediately. People started yelling and screaming, scrambling for the sewers and shelters, just like last time. Theodore grabbed the ammo box he'd brought along, and bolted back for the town. Clayton was giving Thomas and Rudy some pointers on using the bayonet on the old Lancers they'd all been equipped with. Clayton led the charge back to the town. Theodore's hunch had been correct; the aircraft was headed right for Mercy. It flew right over the town, and came to a sudden stop. Theodore could see Cole on the Vulcan turret shooting the craft. The bullets were literally bouncing off the shields, which shimmered blue with very hit. It opened fire, putting a hole through the building the turret was on. Theodore was sure that Cole was dead.

The craft landed, and Clayton ordered them all to get into formation as they charged up the hill, each of them holding their Retro Lancers or Longshots. They only had three of the rifles right now. Baird had put in an order for more, but they had yet to arrive. They spotted two of the Spooks walking down the street, and the Gears ducked for cover. They could hear the Spooks talking and laughing as they strolled down the street. Theodore couldn't understand what they were saying, but he understood the tone. That seemed to be universal. There was malice in their tone. Clayton gave the signal to wait, holding his Retro. The Spooks walked by, and Clayton gave the signal. Theodore and Rudy, yelling at the top of their lungs, charged the Spooks, bearing their bayonets, and stabbed the aliens in the chest as they twisted about, trying to bring their weapons to bear.

The feeling of impaling another being, human or otherwise…Theodore had imagined it was going to be like the bags they'd practiced on, only squishier. But…Theodore could FEEL. He could feel everything, it seemed. The gun was an extension of himself, and the person-He was a person, right?-he'd just stabbed was now an extension of it. Theodore found himself looking the alien in the eye, who seemed terrified and shocked by what had just happened. Theodore dropped the alien on the ground, keeping one boot on the alien's throat, and stabbed again, going straight through the armor. Theodore panted, the alien's blood now coating his armor. Clayton put a hand on Theodore's shoulder, but he held up his hand.

Theodore leaned down,a nd took the alien's weapon. On top of the assault rifle, he was also holding several other weapons. He took the one off the alien's leg, and to his surprise, it unfolded into a pistol. He looked to Clayton and smiled.

"If they've got shields, how much do you want to bet their weapons can penetrate or short them?"

"Good thinking. Take all the guns. See if you can't pull the shield generator off of it, too."

"We should hide the bodies," Thomas suggested, "Command might want to dissect them."

"Even better. In here."

They dragged the two bodies into the building, and found a closet. It would suffice. They pulled all the weapons off of the aliens. To their surprise, they each had a shotgun, a pistol, an assault rifle, and a _sniper rifle._ There was, on the back, what looked to be a slot. It was also removable. Theodore took out his knife, and pried it off the alien.

"If I were designing a suit with a shield generator, that's where I'd put it," he reasoned to Clayton. He took a look at the thing, and couldn't make heads or tails of it. He poked his finger at one part, and it shocked him.

"Here goes nothing…Rudy, c'mere," he instructed, and Rudy approached. Theodore spun him around, and opened one of the many power input/output slots on their armor, and pressed the device against it. Gear armor was specifically designed to be adaptable to just about damn near anything. If it could receive or give off power, there was a slot somewhere on their armor that would be able to integrate with it through conduction, rather than direct current. Sure enough, it latched right onto Rudy's armor. They heard the shields activate, and the device hummed for just a second. They all smiled. Theodore knew that the Carmine brothers were smiling behind those helmets of theirs. They took the other, and attached it to Clayton's armor, and started up the hill.

Theodore took one of the Assault Rifles, but kept his Longshot. With any luck, Diego was right about the Longshot, it would still be of some use. Clayton kept his Retro Lancer, but took one of the sniper rifles. Thomas took a shotgun and the other sniper rifle, and Rudy took a shotgun and an assault rifle. Clayton and Theodore took the pistols. They hid the bodies, and hit the streets again. They could hear gunfire in the town.

"We should go see if Cole made it," Clayton said.

"He's dead, you saw what happened to that building!" Theodore insisted.

"He's Augustus Cole. Nothing could kill him. And I've got rank on you, Corporal, _and_ seniority. We're going to go check on Cole."

Theodore still thought bringing these weapons to use with the other Gears was more important, but he accepted Clayton's authority begrudgingly. They ran up the street, their new weapons at the ready, encountering nobody until they reached the destroyed building that they'd set the Vulcan up on. There were three more Spooks. One was outside, and two were inside.

"Let's see what these guns can really do!" Thomas encouraged, but Clayton put up his hand.

"We'll use them on the inside. But the one outside is going to be a quiet kill," he instructed, equipping his Retro. He crept to the corner, getting a good feel for the area and the location of his target, then charged across the street. It took the alien a second to realize what was going on, and brought his weapon up, opening fire on Clayton. The force shield took the rounds for him, shimmering blue. Theodore was sure the Spook's last words were his equivalent of 'What the fuck!' as Clayton stabbed him.

"Go!" Theodore ordered. This was meant to be a quiet kill, but it hadn't turned out that way, and Hotel squad charged across the street. Clayton pulled the shield generator off of the alien, and motioned to Theodore. He expected it to drain from the armor, but to Theodore's surprise, he felt the strength enhancement _improve_ when it was hooked up to the shield generator. Perhaps it had its own power supply? The only thing the shield did was make the hair on his neck stand up, before settling down again. Other than that, he didn't feel any different. That was good, he decided. Feeling that he was vulnerable meant he kept his head down.

"All right, breach in three…Two…One!" Clayton kicked down the door to the building, and there was an explosion. Clayton went down, and the shield fizzled out on him. Theodore and Rudy entered, and were peppered with assault rifle fire. Moment of truth. Clayton, who was still alive, dragged himself out of the door as Theodore and Rudy returned fire on the alien. Sure enough, the alien's shield gave out, and they pumped him full of holes. Thomas helped his brother up, and Theodore led the squad down the hall.

"No you DON'T mothuhfuckah!" they heard, and there was a thump, a crash, and Theodore saw an alien body fall from the second story, its head twisted all the way backwards. Thomas took a second to pull the shield off of the dead alien, and Theodore led Rudy up the stairs. Sure enough, there stood Augustus Cole, looking very pissed.

"Well. Looks like Clayton was right. Maybe next time, they should try a nuke," Theodore mentioned, and Cole smiled.

"Nothing stops the Cole Train! Nothing!" he insisted. He felt his head. It was bleeding, "Might slow me down, though. Watch out!"

Theodore turned around, spotting a fourth alien, who opened fire with the shotgun, sending Theodore back. The shield fizzled out, but he was alive. Rudy returned fire with his own shotgun, pumping two blasts into the alien.

"What the fuck?" Cole scowled. Theodore opened his eyes and smiled.

"Shields work with our armor, Cole. These fucktards don't know what they just pissed off," he said, coming back to his feet. Rudy was already prying the shield off of the alien, and handed Cole the alien's weapons.

"Aw, yeah, baby! An extra layer of whoop-ass!" Cole declared, "Baird, this is Cole. You read me?"

"Yeah, I do. Where the fuck are you? I'm stuck here with Towelhead and Sam, we're pinned down, and we're pretty sure they just entered our building. We're just outside the aircraft."

"Baird, this is Clayton. Listen to me: Take their weapons if you can, they'll take down the enemy's shields. And it gets better. The shields are compatible with out armor. You can pry it off the back of theirs, and attach it to your own."

"Hot damn, all right. Get here when you can, but we might have to bug out."

"You heard him, squad. Let's go kick some alien ass."


	4. Chickenwalker

CRACK! Thomas's sniper rifle brought down the alien's shield, and Theodore replied with a bullet from the Longshot, blowing a hole in the alien's head, which collapsed in on its own weight. The alien fell like a sack of rocks. The aliens were storming Baird's position, but still had guards near their vessel. With any luck, this would give them a wake up call, and force the rest out. Theodore slipped in another shot, and Thomas let out another blast. Theodore followed through, taking out another alien. Thomas re-aimed, and opened fire again, then again, killing an alien by himself. His sniper rifle hissed, and Theodore could feel the heat coming off of it. It beeped a warning. Evidently, four was the magic number for the sniper rifles.

Theodore took this moment to relocate to a new window as the aliens opened fire on their position, and allowing the sniper rifle to cool off. They went up a floor, and repositioned as Clayton, Rudy, and Cole assaulted the aliens on the ground. Theodore was glad he'd grabbed that ammunition, as there was no shortage of targets. To his surprise, they didn't have any fixed emplacements. The sniper rifle had cooled off, and they started trading shots. Thomas would take the shields, and Theodore would take the target. Theodore had confirmed that the Longshot would take out the shields, but it took two shots, which was why Thomas was making the first hit. By this point, all five of them had the shields attached to their armor, and it must have saved their lives several times by this point.

Theodore couldn't help but laugh as he watched the aliens gaze in horror as Augustus charged one of the aliens with a lancer and saw him in half, turn to the alien's friends, and scream, "YOU CAN'T STOP THE COLE TRAIN MOTHERFUCKER!"

The aliens bolted for their ship, banging on the door, begging to be let in. It opened, and they poured in.

So did Cole and Rudy.

Theodore could see the blood being spilled from his position as Cole and Rudy sawed and impaled the aliens one by one with their brutal weaponry. Clayton entered the building with Baird and Sam in it alone, and Theodore and Thomas gave him sniper support, taking out several aliens through the windows. Baird, Sam, and Yassir had, indeed, managed to kill a few of the aliens, as they were now armed with their weaponry by this point, and had managed to hold off their attackers. Clayton's arrival allowed them to break the line, and they pushed downstairs, killing everything in their path.

Theodore watched as Thomas took downt he shields of one alien, and almost fired, but to his surprise, the alien went down. Baird and Sam entered the room, and Theodore watched a pair of hands go into the air, waving them frantically.

"Well, lookee here. Looks like we've got ourselves a prisoner," Baird chuckled, "Damn fine work, boys and, uh, girl."

"You ain't the only one with a prisoner, Baird. I found us a new Spook here in the ship. He's just about pissed his pants," Cole said, "Any of you know what 'Kee-lah Say-lah' means?"

"I don't know, but I suspect he's going to tell us everything," Baird said, "Get up, motherfucker."

Theodore met the other gears at the ship. Baird had tied up the alien and stripped him down naked, save for a pair of boxers. Cole had the new alien cornered in the cockpit of the ship. This one was wearing a full body suit, with what looked to be a gas mask. His legs were inverted at the knee, and he only had three fingers.

"What the fuck are you supposed to be?" Baird asked it. It reluctantly held out its hands, and mimed driving.

"I think he's the pilot," Sam stated. The alien held out its hand, as if trying to calm them, and an orange hologram appeared over its left arm. Cole raised his weapon, and the alien kept its palm raised as it whimpered, "Keelah se'lai," again and again, sniveling. It hit some buttons on the hologram.

"Not know do this adjustment work. Vocal ranges strange beans. Trying adjustment strange beans."

"Uh…What?" Baird asked.

"Vocal ranges strange beans!"

"I don't have any beans," Baird told him.

"Keelah se'lai!" the alien whimpered again, and hit more buttons on the hologram, "Understand better me?"

"That's a little better, yeah. Who the fuck are you people?" Baird asked.

"Identity confirmed as Ran'Kauwfin vas Wizaum. Pilot. Engineer. Please do not harm me."

"I've got plenty of incentive to do just that, Ran. Take off your helmet, I want to see your face."

"I cannot. I will die."

"You'll die if you don't," Baird told him, raising his rifle.

"No, you are not comprehending! Suit is requirement for life! Please!" Ran whimpered.

"Oh, well, keep your hands up, and stay two paces in front of me. You're my prisoner now, understand?"

"Yes, of course. Please, though, I have sustenance on board. I cannot consume normal food."

"Where is it?" Baird asked, and Ran pointed to one of the cupboards. He opened it, and there were several trays of what looked to be paste.

"Cole," Baird pointed to the trays, and motioned for the two aliens to walk out of the ship, and they obeyed, "Rodriguez, this is Baird. This is the All Clear, the Grubs Have Burned. I repeat, the Grubs have Burned."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Our people owe you much gratitude," he replied.

"Remember that when this town is swarming with Gears. Also, do you have a prison? Because I have two prisoners," Baird chuckled.

Theodore never knew how much he snored until Sam kicked his chair in annoyance at all the noise. He jolted awake, and looked around the room. Ran, whose translation program was working a lot better now, was still toying with his hologram computer, while the other alien was sitting on the bed, staring at his feet. Theodore knew that look: he was thinking.

There was a knock on the door, and three Gears entered the prison. Theodore stood strait and gave a salute, recognizing one of them.

"General Hoffman, sir!"

Sam gave a similar salute, which the General returned.

"Sam," he nodded, and he walked up to the four-eyed alien's cell. The alien had stood, and looked Hoffman in the eyes with his larger pair.

"What's your name?"

Ran translated.

"Gavun," the alien replied.

"What are your people called?"

"Batar," he said.

"I want you to know this, Gavun: You've fucked with the wrong species. We just got over a war that nearly wiped us out, so you better be damn sure you understand that we're not pleased with the idea of having to put up with your shit. My name is General Hoffman, of Gears Central Command. You're talking to the de facto leader of the human race. If I were a prideful man, I would demand that you be on your knees. The only reason you are still alive is because you might still be useful to us, understand?"

"He says yes," Ran began to translate, "He also says that he understands all too well how your people have suffered in your war with your co-inhabitants. The leader of-Gavun, is this true?"

The Batarian nodded.

"He…Says that your people have been observed for over a decade now, waiting for your war to end. Then start abducting the survivors, whichever one it would be."

"Hit us when we're weakest. So why? Why hit us, what do you get from abducting our people?"

"They are slavers," Ran answered simply, and Hoffman's fist clenched.

"So I have over three thousand civilians, who have been trying to rebuild our race and our societies that are working some fucking slave camp?" Hoffman snarled. He started shaking with rage.

"Th-That's correct," Ran said, taking a step away from the bars. Theodore was worried that Hoffman was going to open the cell and beat Gavun into an inch of his life. Sera knows that Theodore wanted to.

"He says…He's seen those camps, and didn't want to do it anymore. He didn't want to see people suffer. But nobody leaves Gatatog Yarmon's service without his say-so. You must understand, General, he is a Batarian, their entire economy runs on slavery in some way. They're raised to think it's acceptable. I know Gavun, he is a friend, he is not lying," Ran said, and the General approached Ran's cell.

"That brings us to you."

"Please, General, I am a Quarian. I'm…I'm not even of age, I'm on my pilgrimage! Yarmon offered me a small ship if I piloted for him, I didn't know…Please, I didn't know…I haven't been away from the fleet for even two years yet! Please…You can't leave Gatatog Yarmon's service without…Please…" Ran started to sob, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know…Not until it was too late…"

"How old are you?" Hoffman asked.

"Eight…Eighteen…Your years…"

"He's just a boy…" one of the masked Gears mentioned.

"So you're a pilot and an engineer. Can you build more of this technology that's been used against us?" Hoffman asked.

"I can…But it would break a lot of rules…I mean, you're not an advanced society…It's wrong to uplift a race if they haven't developed on their own! That's what happened to the Krogan, and then we have people like Yarmon as a result! It wouldn't be fair!"

"It's not fair that my race is crawling its way out of the jaws of death, only to be attacked by this Yarmon. We've lost our greatest source of energy because _it tried to kill us._ If we don't find a solution, then my race will be hurled back hundreds of years technologically. Ran, we are going to find and kill this Yarmon. But we need your help. I believe you when you say you didn't know until it was too late. Do this for us, and I'll make sure you get your ship."

Ran paused, thinking.

"It will take years to get you to the point that you can fight Yarmon's fleets," he pointed out.

"Then you're spending a long time here, aren't you?" Hoffman replied.

"Fine. I'll need Eezo, though."

"Eezo?"

"It's this material that when exposed to some kind of power, usually electricity, changes the mass of the things it affects. You might not have discovered it yet, but I know the basics on detecting it."

"That…That sounds like Imulsion, sir…The lightmass process," Sam mentioned, "When Imulsion is given a negative charge, its mass is lessened and it gives off more energy than what's put in."

"But all of the Imulsion on Sera was destroyed," Hoffman affirmed.

"I don't know what this Imulsion is, but even if you destroyed it, there might be Eezo still left over," Ran pointed out, "General…Your planet might be worth more than just slaves. What…What is Imulsion?"

Hoffman took the key ring off the wall, and unlocked Ran's door.

"You've got a lot of studying to do, boy."

Naturally, it was Theodore's job to guard Ran as he studying some of the texts and summaries that had been provided for him. Mostly, it was just human history, and what they had managed to piece together about the Locust. Ran seemed…Enthralled by the humans' plight.

"You were nearly pushed off your planet by something you had unwittingly unleashed," he mentioned to Theo, "It reminds me of my own people, the Quarians."

"This is the first time you've mentioned them. Tell me more," Theodore's rage had subsided after the conversation with the Batarian, and now he wanted to know everything. The Locust and Imulsion had been native to Sera. In some twisted way they were both part of the humans, as well.

"We created a race of androids known as the Geth. They performed dangerous and menial tasks for us, and we continuously advanced their programming to increase their function. But then, one day, the Geth became sentient, and rebelled. They destroyed our colonies, and pushed us into space. Now we live as nomads in starships. That's why we have to live in these enviro suits. Our immune systems have been destroyed after living in the starships for so long. In times past, I would have been able to walk on your planet with only an air filter, but…That was almost three hundred years ago. No Quarian alive remembers what our home planet looks like. I mean, we have pictures, but…"

Theodore nodded, "Yeah, I grew up during the Locust War. Sera…Sera used to be a beautiful planet. Green and beautiful, even in the deserts. This town, Mercy, it used to be gorgeous. Then it got raided by the Locust, infected by the Lambent, and now destroyed by those slavers."

"That's a tragedy…But you have the chance to rebuild. All we can do is survive…"

Theodore frowned. He couldn't see Ran's face, but he could read the Quarian's body language.

"If you help us, Ran, I believe that our people will do everything we can to help yours," Theodore said, "Our government, the COG, it's destroyed, but its military, the Gears? We hold ourselves to a higher standard. It's about brotherhood and unity. If you do this for us, and you help defend our planet, Ran…That makes you a brother. And Gears never leave their brothers."

Ran looked at Theodore, and his shoulders raised from their slump.

"That's the first kind thing anyone has said to me in two years. I believe you."


	5. Sunshine

"I preferred fighting the Batarians," Rudy grunted. Thomas chuckled, and Theodore turned to them. They were all wearing helmets, but they knew Theodore's expression. It was 'Shut the fuck up this is serious time.' The defeated Batarian attack had not been the last by any means. Hotel and Delta Squad had found themselves being jerked around from place to place, always on fast-response for the last four years. Technically they were still the Mercy Garrison, but with how much they'd been out of the town, there had been an additional two squads had been assigned to take over those roles. Theodore was now Sergeant Jester, and Baird was now _Captain_ Damon Baird. Baird hated the idea of ever having a command.

Times had moved quickly.

Right now they were on Honor Guard duty, essentially, escorting the alien Ran'Kauwfin nar Wizaum, who, on three occasions, Theodore had to escort out of his lab and to more secure locations. Evidently, the Krogan Pirate Gatatog Yarmon was quite serious about people leaving his employ without his permission, and wanted the Quarian dead. But Ran'Kauwfin was working with the greatest minds that Sera still had managed to scrape off of what was left of the survivors.

Mercifully, the Batarian attacks had become easy to detect with orbital sensors, and they'd managed to turn the Hammer of Dawn into an Orbital Defense grid, as well as Orbital Support. The Mass Effect technology had revolutionized everything on Sera. Personal shields were slowly becoming standard issue, though technically it was reserved for Special Forces. Theodore's Lancer was lighter and more accurate, but with some notable differences. The bayonet was now a holoblade, and it didn't fire conventional ammunition. It was now Overheat, though it had the capacity for a heat sink to be taken out and inserted if necessary. As an added bonus, if done right, it fired pyrotechnic rounds for a short while until the overheated ammo block was all fired off.

General Hoffman had called a meeting between all government remnants. Survivor governments, stranded military units, COG holdouts, and UIR survivors had all been assembled in the city of New Jericho, one of the few cities that had more than a hundred thousand living there. Last Theodore heard, it was just over a half million. Four years and a lot of work had done a lot of good things for Sera's population. There were finally cities again. The Gears were an organized military force. They had no government, still, but they didn't need one. In the last six years, Gears Command had an amicable relationship with the communities that had managed to survive or rebuild. There was no government, no taxes, and no bullshit. Gears existed to protect. They were an all-volunteer, professional army without a government. It was their duty to protect Sera now. Even the remaining UIR governments worked closely with the Gears.

The first two years after the Imulsion War had been tough. People still despised the Gears and the COG, so getting recruits and supplies had been tough. But after the Battle of Mercy, that all changed. Ran started pumping out Mass Effect technology in various ways. At first it had just been a few technological novelties: Holodisplays, new computer processors, things like that, which Ran insisted were little more than child's play. Ran had been impressed, however, by the Seran's technology in some ways. Their computers weren't too far off from what most races used, and had their own advantages, namely being far less fragile. Their robots were just as advanced as any race's, and the COG had already been working on what Ran had described once as a Virtual Intelligence.

With these technologies, the Gears had managed to finance themselves. Gear Research and Development pumped out techs that made life a lot easier, and infrastructure came back at a rate they'd never expected before. Finally, true Mass Effect Generators, and with it Cold Fusion, had solved their energy crisis.

It was estimated that the average Seran now lived around more technology than ever before, and the world's population had increased by a third.

And Theodore was the Honor Guard of the alien that had made it all possible. The doors opened, and there were literally hundreds of people all arguing and talking at the same time. Theodore looked around, and didn't recognize any of them. Well, that wasn't true…He spotted Marcus Fenix among the delegates. He wishes Marcus could see Theodore's face. General Hoffman, looking worse for the wear after the conference, seemed relieved to finally receive Ran.

"Order, please, let's have order," he called out, and the argument came to a stop, except for a pair of Islanders in the back, whose argument seemed more important to them. Hoffman ignored them. It was quiet enough.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you Ran'Kauwfin nar Wizaum. Ran was misled, and later forced, to pilot for the pirate Gatatog Yarmon's forces. Since his liberation by Gear forces at the Battle of Mercy, he had been at the head of our research and development, which has allowed Sera to rebuild so much. We owe him more than he knows.

"Now, we've been spending all this time speculating and arguing over the possibility of a worldwide Seran government. One that transcends COG or UIR or Independent or even the Gears. The biggest argument so far has been _why._ Why do we need a global government? Why do we need to devote resources and time to our neighbors? For that, I give you the Quarian himself."

General Hoffman stepped aside, and Ran walked up to the Podium, flanked by Hotel Squad.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed delegates of this conference. Your biggest question has been why. I have studied your history and the science of your world. I have studied Imulsion as much as I have been able to in four years' time. I have created Mass Effect Generators that keep your cities powered, your cars running, and your technology advancing.

"One of the fundamental problems regarding the more serious technological breakthroughs that Sera needs to truly defend itself against Yarmon is the lack of Element Zero. I suspect you have all been briefed on it, so I will spare you the explanation. I originally suspected when I was brought on for these projects is that your planet is rich with the stuff, and you were not aware. And I was right."

Ran pushed a button on his Omnitool, and a display of Imulsion showed up.

"I have discovered that the reason Imulsion was so useful in utilizing your version of Cold Fusion, known as the Lightmass Process, is because one of the fundamental molecules in Imulsion uses Element Zero. And while the Imulsion was destroyed by Adam Fenix's device four years ago, the Eezo has not been destroyed. In fact, the Gears have been harvesting incredible amount of the stuff. I suspect Sera now has one of the largest stockpiles of Element Zero in the galaxy."

"Doesn't that make us a TARGET?" one of the delegates shouted.

"Yes. It also gives you leverage. There is a multiracial organization known as the Citadel Council. Once, the Quarians were members of the Citadel Treaty, but we were kicked out for creating the Geth. Once the Citadel finds that your planet has been interfered with by this pirate, they will intervene, of that I am sure, and especially with the massive amounts of Eezo your planet can export.

"On top of that, we have finally been able to begin construction on Sera's first true starship, currently being built in Tyra. When it is completed, we will be able to use its comparatively massive firepower to obliterate any Slaver vessels that attempt to enter the system. As it is, the Gears have developed a number of transatmospheric craft that can move about the solar system with ease. By the end of the year, the Gears expect to have regular patrols between Risea and Sera. Within three, they expect the first Seran starship to be deployed.

"And with this starship, the plan is to take the Relay at the edge of your starsystem, and begin a new age of exploration and expansion for your people. That is why General Hoffman has brought you here today, because if you do not form a global government, then it will lay solely with the Gears to develop and advance this technology. And then you will have new things to fight over: Who has the right to make colonies, build starships, and dominate the orbital lanes? What are the rights of Gear garrisons?

"The time is now. If Sera does not stand united and create its own will and its own dominance, then people like Yarmon will only be the beginning. You have pulled yourselves from the grips of hell, it is time to grasp for the heavens. Find some way-Any way-of bringing your tortured people together. You were wrongly forced and thrust into this situation. The luxuries the Mass Effect technology has offered you cannot be allowed to make you complacent. Yarmon will come, and he will be followed by people just as worse if you cannot ready yourselves in more than just military. Thank you."

Ran stepped down from the podium, and led his escorts out of the room. Theodore took the helmet off as soon as they'd stepped out, as did Yassir and Rudy. Thomas usually kept his helmet on. Gavun was waiting for them on the other side, in his own Gear uniform.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Chickenwalker," the Batarian smiled. Man, that alien was creepy even when he was happy.

"I just kept to my script, mostly. I actually cut through half of it when that one person made his outburst, because it brought me right to that point. Pretty convenient, actually, I was starting to lose my nerve."

"Well, I think you did fine. They'll be talking about how the alien walked out, told everyone whatfor, then walked out," Theodore promised, putting his hand on Ran's shoulder.

"Thanks, Theo. From this point, it's up to them, though. I did my part," he insisted.

"Well, we couldn't have gotten his far without you. You've saved Sera with everything you've done."

"Please, I didn't do anything that a normal Quarian fresh out of school couldn't have done. And I didn't do it alone. I've had the help of hundreds of people, many of whom know more about this stuff than I do now, really."

"That's not true. It takes someone special to save the world," a gruff, deep voice declared, and Theodore turned to see Marcus Fenix, "Something I know a thing or two about, myself."

Marcus held out his hand.

"Mister Fenix, I've heard a lot about you, and your father. It's an honor," Ran shook Marcus's hand.

"I'm only here because I own three of the world's largest ranches and my military service. I really don't give a shit about this sort of thing, but I decided to make a point of meeting you if I got the chance while I was here. And to know what happened to my three best ranch hands."

Theodore smiled.

"Well, I don't know how good they are at herding cattle, but they've done a fine job escorting me all around Sera, if herding Chickenwalkers counts," Ran replied. Theodore would have laughed along, but he was watching a Gear approaching them. He was wearing a helmet, and was holding himself…Strangely. There was something about the man's body language that told Theodore…This man is a threat. Marcus and Ran kept trading quips, not noticing that the man was raising a pistol. Theodore grabbed Ran by the arm and tossed him aside. He knew the Quarian was fairly fragile, but he'd also seen the Quarian suffer a suit fracture and live. He could handle being tossed aside. The Gear pointed the pistol at Ran, but Theodore stood in the way. The Gear reached for his shotgun, but the assassin was faster. Theodore had taken off his helmet…And Gear personal Kinetic Shields didn't do anything without the helmet.


	6. Big Footprints

Franklin Fenix gripped his Lancer tightly, his chest tightening, knowing that the Batarians were closing in. He'd fought Batarians before, sure. But those were slavers, the tools of Gatatog Yarmon. But these…These were Batarian Army Regulars,a nd he had no reason to believe they were any less trained than any of the Gears. He looked over to Captain Carmine, who seemed at the ready. The Batarians didn't know the Gears were here, having set up an ambush as their armored column ran through the area. The Seran Union of Nations had really pissed off the Batarians, it seemed, for them to be seizing a SUN colony so openly. Then again, SUN expected the Batarians to hit this specific colony…

"It's all right, private," Carmine assured him. They were squatting in buildings along the street, and there were more Gear forces throughout the region. The Batarians thought the colony was devoid of military forces, and filled with civilians. Instead, the opposite was true: The colony of New Mercy had no civilians on it at all. The SUN Gears had set up a trap for the Batarians. They removed all the colonists, and waited for the Batarians to attack, thinking it had no ships. But the SUN Navy were hiding on New Mercy's moon, shut down for all but receivers and life support. Once they received the signal, they were going to lift off and obliterate the Batarian ships.

With any luck, it would make the Batarian military think twice about fighting on behalf of slavers in SUN space. That, or open war.

"You know what to do," Clayton said, "We attack in three…Two…One!"

The Gears popped out from their hiding places, giving the Batarians whatfor with their Lancer rifles. Franklin took a deep breath, popped up, and fleet a shiver up his spine as he concentrated. While the Imulsion had been destroyed throughout the world, that didn't mean the Eezo had been removed. That was one of the biggest advantages the SUN had in their expansion into space: No shortage of Eezo. And his mother, who hadn't succumbed to Lambency, still had been exposed to Imulsion, and the Eezo that permutated it.

Just enough to make Franklin Fenix quite the Biotic. Hammer of Dawn targeting systems blasted the area, destroying the Batarian vehicles and killing dozens, but there were dozens left. Franklin concentrated his power on them, liftinga dozen soldiers with his Biotic powers, and allowing his fellow Gears to tear through them. There were at least five other Biotic Gears doing the same thing. The fight lasted only a matter of minutes as the Batarians were torn through by the Gear ambush. Franklin's head felt light, and he stumbled. The Batarians were on the retreat now, and a different Gear unit was in charge of intercepting the Batarians and slaughtering or capturing what was left.

"Easy, easy!" Clayton helped Franklin to a chair, "You did good, kid. Real good. I've never seen a Biotic spike that high before. I'm surprised you didn't kill yourself. Medic!"

"We got 'em," Frank dabbed his nose. He was having a nosebleed. A medic jobbed up to him, and started scanning Frank's head.

"Yep. We sure did. About now, the fleet's engaged the Batarians in space, and New Mercy will have been liberated, just as according to plan. Get some sleep."

Franklin nodded, and his head drooped, and he passed out in the chair. He didn't dream, but he was woken up when Clayton started shaking him.

"Fenix! Fenix, wake the fuck up!"

"Buh-wha?"

"Things didn't go as planned, we need you! Get up!"

Frank grabbed his weapon, and scrambled to his feet. There were Batarians crawling all over the street, firefights between them and the Gears breaking out all over. Franklin's head still felt woozy, but he could still aim his rifle. Master Gunnery Sergeant Clayton Carmine led Franklin and the rest of the squad out of the building and into the street, and Frank was glad they did, since the floor they'd just been on was hit by an anti-tank blast, destroying the entire floor.

They were able to evac into the alleyway behind the building. A dead Gear, still clutching his rifle, was slumped up against the wall. Frank took a moment to grab the Gear's tags. The squad turned down a second alleyway, where a Batarian squad passed by and spotted them. Clayton and another Gear hit the wall, then leaned over, opening fire on the Batarians. Frank focused, and felt a familiar shiver up his spine. He stepped into the alleyway, and grabbed one of the Batarians with his powers, slamming him against the wall of the building. Another Gear's Omnitool glowed orange, and the Batarians' drone fizzled and dipped, then turned on its owners. Frank clutched his Snub, and shook his head. He needed to lay off the Biotics for a little while longer, he couldn't keep this up. The other Gears finished mopping up the Batarian squad. Clayton paused, thinking.

"Back that way is the Batarians, that was is their ass end, and that way is their main force…" he muttered, mostly to himself, "We're fuckin trapped…We'll have to make a break for it."

"This is Colonel Damon Baird to all Seran Union of Nations military personnel. New Mercy City is getting overrun by Batarian troops. The Fleet has engaged. Hammer of Dawn Scorched Earth Protocols enabled. All Gears are to evacuate the cities immediately, and rendezvous at Fort Santiago. Any advancements in the fighting should be reported immediately."

"One ambush goes bad, and they decide to fry the whole damn city?" one of the Gears asked, "What the fuck!"

"There's more going on than the Batarians crawling over New Mercy," Clayton said, "Colonel Baird would never allow something like that unless it was important that the Batarians not control the city."

"So what are we going to do?" Frank asked. Clayton didn't reply. Instead, he fiddled with his radio, instructing his men to keep him covered.

"Baird, this is Carmine Elder. My squad is pinned down at Glass and Boltok, but we'll be able to break out. Baird, what's really going on?"

Frank didn't hear Colonel Baird's response, but given Clayton's response, the stiff back, the lack of pacing, it said that it was important.

"Yes, Colonel. I volunteer."

_That_ was a good sign.

"Yes, sir. Will do. All right, squad, we have a mission. We've got two hours to reach a Gear research facility and then ensure its security. If that facility falls, then New Mercy will become a Batarian staging ground if the Hammer of Dawn doesn't work. Check your ammo, pop your stims if you need them. We're going to make a break for it."

None of the other Gears did, but Franklin took out a pill from his belt, and popped it in his mouth. Everyone else got simple enhancement drugs, but his stims were different. They would help Franklin focus, and take the edge off. SUN Biotics programs were imperfect to say the least. They understood that their implants were in their infancy, and they only had the knowledge of a single Quarian helping them out. The Quarians had few Biotics as it was, so it was largely trial and error, or experimentation. And Frank never volunteered for any of the experiments. Frank knew more than one Gear biotic that literally cooked their spinal cord by overusing their powers. He checked his Lancer, and followed the Master Sergeant as they crept up the alleyway, then dashed across the street. The Batarians opened fire, only their heels getting dirtied by chunks of pavement being shot up.

"This is Colonel Damon Baird to all Gears. If you are unable to evacuate the city, or you're feeling up for a few more kills, rendezvous at Kilo-Hotel-Sierra. That includes you, Carmine."

"The High School?" Frank asked, taking a few deep breaths. They had a few second before having to take off again, and they were going to _enjoy_ it, dammit!

"It is one of our forward outposts," one of Frank's squadmates pointed out.

"We'll likely find more Gears there, anyway. To hell with evacuating. If there's a chance we can hold this city, any Gear worth his armor would rather stay," Clayton affirmed. Frank rolled the dead Gear's tags in his hand, "Let's go, squad."

Frank followed Clayton through the building, and through the next one. Once in a while, a Batarian squad would show up, but the Gears usually got the drop on them, snuck away, or were just generally tougher. Frank was thankful that in none of those situations, he was needed to use his Biotics. Just aim down the sights and bring the pain. Recool behind cover, taking turns. When one overheats, another takes their place. Nice and methodical.

Dancers. That's how the Gears had once been described by a UIR President once. The Gears were dancers, and their dance was doom. That's why the Gears were able to deploy Adam Fenix's weapon. The Batarians were good soldiers, but the Gears? The Gears were the best. There were other SUN branches, of course. The SUN Army (Called Rays) relied heavily on drones and tanks. The humans of Sera had less than two billion people on their homeworld or their colonies. As such, the Rays were almost always Tankers, and their tanks always could deploy some infantry as escorts when needed. But the Gears, they had a government now. Their traditions, doctrines, and political power remained unchanged. The Gears deployed as adaptable units, where anything and everything could be interchanged: Men, equipment, intelligence, and so on. With a few exceptions, squads often traded men and supplies with one another. They were all brothers here. All family.

The Batarians seemed to have a lot of troops, but from what they'd understood, their proper military was usually used for internal security rather than outright conflict. They could hear the Batarians' apprehension when they overheard the aliens talking. They were chattering about a friend they'd lost, about how this was the most resistance they'd ever encountered in their careers. Many of them were wondering why the hell they were trying to take this world from a species nobody's ever heard of before. Hue-mons? Who the hell were the Hue-mons?

Frank took a drink from his canteen as the squad took another quiet moment. They were fifteen minutes into their second hour. Forty five to reach the facility.

"Ramirez, where are we?" Clayton asked. Ramirez pulled up his Omnitool and a map display showed.

"We're here. School's here. Facility is here."

"All right, that's less than two blocks. Everyone up for a sprint?"

Frank took a good chug from his canteen, put it back, and nodded. Clayton took point again, and with his fingers, counted down from three. Two. One. Go!

The Gears all bolted down the street. There were Batarians around the corners, but none directly in their way. A few shots flew by them, but they were in and out before most of them could react. Frank could see the high school now. A burnt out tank, still smoking with Batarian corpses still on its treads, marked the entrance. A pair of Silverbacks was entrenched in blast craters, surrounded by sandbags. There were turrets on raised platforms behind them. Frank had no doubt that there was more than one Hammer of Dawn targeting device there as well. They bolted through the front gate, instantly recognized by the lookouts as Gears. Once through the front gate, Frank's foot skidded across the ground, and he fell over, rolling onto his back. He panted heavily, curling up as he fell.

The rest of the squad stopped, panting heavily. Someone who looked like an Officer approached them, but said nothing. Ramirez chuckled, and Frank joined in, then Monty, and finally Clayton. The officer waited patiently for them to get it out of their systems.

"Hotel Two?" the Officer asked, and Clayton nodded.

"You're wanted in the automotive garage. Everyone else is ready. We're pulling out of here."

"We spent three days setting this position up before the Batarians got here!" Monty protested.

"And now we're pulling it out in less than thirty minutes. All the Silverbacks, all the turrets, all the mortars, and all the Gears. Our next stop is Colonel Baird's mystery facility, whatever it is. You four are wanted in the Automotive garage."

"Well, sounds like we're going for a ride," Ramirez commented, helping Frank to his feet. As they walked towards the school, they could hear the Silverbacks getting up from their entrenched positions. The school was built like any other high school, with tiled floors, uninspiring ceilings and dreary lighting. Gears loaded down with ammunition and equipment were darting about. They could hear the whine of the engines of King Raven hovercopters getting ready to take off. In the garage, they found that the Army had managed to fit a tank in there.

"I don't even want to know how this happened," Monty said, referring to the tank.

"Hotel Two? I'm Lieutenant Spopovich, SUN Army. Colonel Baird says you're going to be the lucky ones in first. I'm your ride," a man that was obviously a tanker said. Tankers and Gears were opposites in a lot of ways. Gears were ground-pounders, with just their armor, shields, and guns keeping them safe. Tankers had six inches of reinforced armor, not to mention starfighter-grade kinetic shields. Tankers were also _tiny_ in comparison to Gears, since the tanks were often a tight fight. In comparison, many civilians questioned the existence of necks among Gears. This tank, the Pariah, however, was beloved by Gears in that they could actually fit in the cockpit and drive them when necessary.

"What's so special about this ride?" Clayton asked, and Spopovich smiled, and he patted the cannon on the top.

"This is an experimental XGLFV Pariah. No idea what idea what the XGLFV means, but this baby is toting a Hammer of Dawn."

"Isn't that a little impractical?" Frank asked, "I mean, Pariah tanks are pretty fast…"

"No, no, no. It's not a Hammer of Dawn Targeting system. It's actually got a miniature Hammer of Dawn laser instead of the normal cannon, but it's manual control. Which means one of you lucky dogs gets to fire _Fenix's Revenge_. First combat run of the weapon."

"How the hell does that even work?"

"Pretty good from what I've seen. There's some things you should know. Don't worry about ammo, just heat. It can keep a charge for you to fire, but the charge will heat up the weapon slowly. Firing heats it up, too. You can avoid the gradual build up by keeping it on trigger-charge, but then, in order to fire it, you have to hold the trigger until the beam charges and fires. There's a coolant valve that you pull which will dissipate the heat pretty quickly. And if you do overheat the weapon, you risk metling the gun, so be careful. Oh, and one more thing: You'll be exposed. So which one of you thinks they're God enough to handle the _Revenge?_

Hotel Two all looked to Frank.

"I guess that's me."

**Codex Entry: Seran Union of Nations**

Following the attempted assassination of the Quarian scientist Ran'Kauwfin nar Wizaum in 23 AE, it became clear to international military and civil leaders that global unity was now an imperative. Not only was the pirate Gatatog abducting humans for slaves, but had managed to sneak in Batarian spies disguised in Gear armor. Although criticized by some as the successor to the Coalition of Ordered Governments, the SUN does not actually govern Sera, or even the colonies it would later establish, but rather was formed through a series of treaties which obligated the signatories to contribute towards the common security and political unity of the Seran humans.

**Codex Entry: Seran-Batarian War**

Two years after the formation of the SUN, millions of Seran humans took to the stars, establishing over a dozen colonies under SUN jurisdiction and protection, seeking their fortunes and security off of their still-hostile homeworld. Gatatog Yarmon continued his slavery campaign against the Serans, only to find that the Serans were adapting more quickly than he anticipated. The Batarian Hegemony, led to believe that the Serans were aiming to invade Batarian space, began funding Gatatog Yarmon's activities. In preparation for contact with the Citadel, the SUN decided that goading the Batarians into attacking SUN colonies would give them the sympathy and justification for Citadel assistance, and SUN vessels began raiding vessels headed for Batarian space, and planting false intelligence to the Batarians, culminating in the Battle of New Mercy in 40 AE.

**Codex Entry: Seran Biotics**

The discovery of Eezo in the remains of the Imulsion led to the realization of the first generation of Human biotics. Telekinesis had already been secretly documented among the children of Imulsion field workers, though few of the subjects survived into adulthood by the Locust War. The elimination of Imulsion allowed surviving children to fully realize their powers, and the first generation of Seran Biotics came to fruition. The Gears and SUN research teams developed numerous generations of Biotic military implants. Although the first generations were relatively simplistic, the second allowed for incredible amounts of power to be channeled, though at a high cost to the user. The fourth generation saw easy-to-remove implants being invented, though their power was nothing like the third or second generation, but better than the first. Fifth generation Biotic implants are on par with the Third generation, while still being easy to remove in case they are damaged or a new version is released. Unlike most races, Seran biotics are extremely common after the Lambent war. It is estimated that thirty five per cent of all humans born after the Lambent war have some kind of biotic manifestation.

**Codex Entry: Hammer of Dawn in the Mass Effect Age**

While most races use laser weaponry for point-defense and shield disabling, the Serans have long utilized laser weaponry for strategic and tactical use since the end of the Pendulum wars. By 40 AE, Hammer of Dawn targeting systems do not require the lock-on time that their predecessors did, though some models require communication with Hammer Control. Far more potent and powerful than GARDIAN lasers, Hammer of Dawn weaponry is now found defending every Seran colony and on every Seran starship. Multiple Hammer of Dawn lasers are capable of ripping through heavier starship armor after sustained fire. The invention of the miniaturized _Adam's Revenge _model allowed for atmospheric gunships to make use of the devastating laser by 35 AE, and by 40 AE the first experimental tank models were being deployed.

**Codex Entry: Silverback Walkers**

Now powered with Mass Effect technology, Silverback Walkers have changed little in their concept and application. However, speed is no longer an issue: By 40 AE, a Silverback can outrun any footed infantry for sustained periods of time. With dual heavy machine guns and flexibility that allows it to engage in melee combat, numerous variants have been developed, ranging from the _Kolchak_ models, which have heavier shields and allow for the pilot to bridge the gap and tear apart enemy armor and infantry, to the _Binky _model, armed with a shoulder-mounted Oneshot for anti-material sniping. Rumors of the development of the twelve-meter-tall _Kong _models have been neither confirmed nor denied by Gear R&D.

**Codex Entry: Gears**

The Gears army has retained its no-nation model they sustained after the Locust War. Originally disavowing any direct political affiliation, the Gears are now answerably only to SUN military and civil leaders. The Gears retain their own responsibilities of funding, training, recruiting, and leadership, but are directed by SUN officials. Several former Gears have later become prominent SUN leaders, such as Sky Marshal Hoffman, whose campaign against the pirates led to the creation of the SUN Navy and Army, and Chairman Draper, the chairman of the SUN in 40 AE.


	7. Two Secrets

Frank felt the weapon in his hands as the tank roared to life. He was holding power manifest in his hands. This was some serious experimental technology right here. The Hammer of Dawn both saved and destroyed Sera at one point. Frank couldn't help but think that he was holding the power of the Divine in his hands. God enough indeed!

The tank roared out of the garage, flanked by two others, and tailed by a third. They were all standard loadouts, each with a standard Mass Effect cannon. It was their job to clear out the Batarians, and allow for further Gear convoys to bust their way through the lines and secure the objective building. Whatever was in that facility, it had Gear command on the button to wipe out the colony entirely, and prevent it from getting into the hands of the Batarians. Which meant that it was probably something they shouldn't have been doing. As Frank understood it, that was fairly typical of mankind, tampering with things because they can, but not necessarily because they should.

"All right, Frankie boy, we've got a Batarian truck up ahead! Normally we'd plow right through it, but I'd say it's time for a first fire!" the pilot declared.

"First fire?" Frank dared to ask.

"Well, technically it's not approved for combat use. I mean, the weapon's been fired in tests…"

Frank didn't want to know. He just pulled the trigger and listened to the weapon charge up. When it was at about a quarter charge, he let go of the trigger, and a red flash emitted from the barrel, tearing the vehicle in two and causing a small explosion that killed several nearby Batarians.

"Yippiee-ay-kay-aye!" the pilot hooted as they drove past (and over) the wreckage. Frank kept his eyes out, and saw a number of Batarians through a window on one of the buildings, so he changed the setting and opened fire, creating a continuous beam of red light that tore through the building in a line as they passed by. Frank didn't even have to aim it, the movement of the tank did everything for him. He couldn't help but smile widely as they prove by, and emblazoned Batarians fell from a half dozen stories.

A Batarian gunship flew in their path, and Frank knew that it was going to fire missiles, so he quickly gave it a faceful of laser, and the gunship hovered out of the line of fire. Frank kept his aim on where the aircraft was likely to be to give it another taste, putting the weapon on a charge. Sure enough, the copter was waiting in ambush, and Frank let go of the trigger, giving the gunship a blast of laser, which fizzled out the vehicle's shields and took out one rack of its missiles. It also overheated the weapon, so Frank pulled the lever that released the heat, waving the evaporating coolant away from his face.

A Batarian blockade pulled in their way, and this time, they actually brought firepower.

"Hey, uh, can you tell the other tanks to worry about the trucks? I'll take out the tank," he told the pilot.

"You got it!" the pilot made the call, and Frank opened fire on the Batarian tank with the continuous laser until he saw the shields pop. The tank rocked as the Batarian vehicle returned fire, but Frank remained uninjured. Without missing a beat, he switched back to charge-fire, and held the trigger.

"Any time now, Frankie boy!" the pilot growled.

The charge was at 100%. If he held it any longer it would start to overheat prematurely, so he let go, letting the Batarian tank have the full blast. Frank only got a split second of a sight of the wreckage, but what he did see was a half-melted tank and a lot of dead Batarians. The other tanks opened fire on the vehicles being used as roadblocks, and Frank ducked his head as they rammed through the exploding roadblock.

"Take that you four-eyed freaks!" the pilot hissed. Missiles streaked by the tank, and Frank spun the turret around, hitting the 'Cool' lever. The Batarian gunship was back. Once the weapon had cooled, he opened fire with the continuous laser, breaking the gunship's shields and putting a scar across the gunship's front end before it scooted out of the way. Another Batarian tank entered the road and took a hit to the rear from one of the other tanks in the convoy. Frank spun the weapon back around, and opened fire at the same time as the Batarian tank, and the Revenge's shields went down. Frank kept up the fire, despite the weapon getting hot, taking out the shields. Another tank opened fire on the Batarian vehicle, blowing a chunk off its rear. Frank kept firing, aiming for the base of the tank's turret, actually melting its armor and preventing the turret from operating properly. The Batarian tank took two more shots to the back and stopped, before exploding after the four Gear tanks had long passed it.

"There it is! Just a little bit longer!"

Sure enough, Frank could see the building they were intending to liberate. Now all it needed was-yep. The Gunship appeared for one last round, and its missiles were ready. It opened fire on the tanks and, despite the Hammer being hot, Frank opened fire anyway. One of the tanks took a full load of missiles to the front and lost control, crashing into a building. The laser flashed and beeped loudly, but Frank ignored the warnings, and kept firing. The gunship was smoking now! The laser had enough, and the autoshutdown prevented the laser from continuing. Cursing technology, Frank pumped more coolant into the weapon as the Gunship opened fire with its machine gun. Frank ducked to avoid the barrage.

"Take it out, Frank!" the pilot snarled.

"I'm trying!" he snapped back, and popped his head back out to the gun, which had cooled down. Since they passed the gunship, Frank took the time to switch it to charge-fire and swing the turret around, unleashing a charged laser onto the gunship, blowing a hole strait through the Batarian vehicle. It crashed to the ground, and satisfyingly exploded in a show of blue and purple flames as its Mass Effect generator exploded, taking a city block with it.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" the pilot yelled as they pulled into the front lawn of the building, tearing up the until-then perfectly green grass. The pilot beeped the obnoxious horn on the tank, which was high pitched and very loud.

"YYYYEEEEAAAAHHHH BOOOOYYYY!" the pilot yelled, and Frank couldn't tell if the horn or the pilot's yell was more annoying. Hotel squad piled out of the tank, checked their gear, and approached the building.

"The other tanks are going to head on back, escort the other vehicles, and find any survivors from the crash. I'll romp around the building and check for any Batarians. You find a way in."

Carmine led the way to the building. Frank took a moment to get his bearings. His implant was giving him a hard time all of the sudden, probably from all the excitement and adrenaline. Close proximity to an overheating Hammer of Dawn laser probably didn't help, either. Frank realized he was lagging behind, and rushed to catch up with the squad. The front door required an access key, but the glass wasn't padded against small arms fire, so they just shot the glass down. The inner door, however, was much more resilient. Ramirez started fiddling with the lock, but Clayton pushed him out of the way, pressing his Gear tags against the lock. It opened right up.

"You didn't see that happen. The lock was inactive when we got here," Clayton instructed his squad pointedly, and the Gears just nodded. It still bugged Frank, though.

"Hello?" Monty called out, "Anyone home?"

"Colonel Baird, this is Carmine Elder. We have arrived at the objective, and we are Oscar Mike."

"Roger that, Hotel Six. The Gear convoy is en route. Get to the basement, and activate the mainframe. It won't be difficult to find. It's in the room labeled in big letters, 'Mainframe.' Once there, you need to turn on the Master Power. That won't be difficult, either. It's labeled, also in big letters, 'Master Power.'"

"Very simple, sir."

"Simple enough for a Gear. That's what it was designed for. Turn on the computer, and let it do all the thinking, then watch it win the war."

"Yes, sir. All right, Gears, let's go find that mainframe," Clayton instructed. The building seemed to be owned by some corporation Frank couldn't pronounce, so he didn't even really bother learning the name. He was here to flip a switch, and that was it. To his surprise, the building went rather deep, and Clayton had to use his Gear tags to open the doors repeatedly as they would go down a flight of stairs, open a door, and then continue down the next flight. And there were no signs of anybody, it's as if nobody had ever been here at all, if it weren't for the occasional datapad lying on the floor.

"Here it is, Mainframe," Clayton was happy to see a computer. Who knew. He used his tags on the door, and they found that there was more than just a big damn computer here. There were security robots, too, which were not a common sight among the SUN. But there were dozens of them here. Frank kept a tight grip on his weapon as they searched for the master power switch. True to Baird's word, it was located by a big sign that said 'Master Power.'

"I bet you that the self destruct button is laying in the open, in the middle of a room, is big and red, and is, of course, clearly labeled," Ramirez snarked.

"Hey, labels are important, otherwise, people could get hurt if things aren't clearly labeled! Like, 'This end towards enemy,' or 'This way forward,' or 'Do not aim at self!'" Monty retorted. Clayton chuckled and flipped the switch, and the room hummed with power.

"All right, Colonel, this is Carmine Elder. Colonel Baird, come in!"

"I think we're too far underground," Ramirez said.

"We're hipsters!" Monty laughed.

"Well, let's join the mainstream and tell the Colonel that his toy's on switch has been set," Clayton instructed.

"Hey, Frank, you all right?" Ramirez asked, and Frank shook his head,

"No, I've got a headache. But it's weird, have you ever had to, I dunno…Have you ever had one of those farts that you felt before it erupted? You know it's a fart, but it doesn't feel like a normal one? Like it might come out of a different hole?"

"Yeah, it's called ship food."

"It's kind of like that."

"I've never heard of Biotic headaches being compared to flatulence," Monty lamented.

"Hey, if the analogy works," Ramirez shrugged. Frank became woozy, and leaned against the wall.

"Private, what's going on?" Clayton demanded.

"I don't know, I think…No, it's not the stim I took, I…Woah…" Frank's knees grew weak, and his stomach turned, and rejected its contents on the floor.

"I hope they've got a medic up there," Clayton grabbed Frank's arm and dragged him up the stairs. Frank did what he could to stand, but his muscles seemed to have failed him outright.

"Hotel six! Come in Hotel Six!"

"Colonel!"

"Did you flip the switch!"

"Is the 'Up' position 'On' like it's labeled?"

"Yes!"

"Then yes, we did."

"Dammit, it must be starting up, then…Get upstairs and rejoin the battle, Hotel Six."

"Sir?"

"You'll find out when you get there."

Frank was only half conscious by the time they reached the top. The Gears had breached the front door and set up an inner defense, while a battle raged outside. Frank's head seemed to return to its proper position, and he started taking notice of what was going on around him, and what was going on outside. There was a battle raging; the Batarians had arrived, shortly after the Gears. Emboldened, Frank stood on his own two feet, and pulled out his pistol.

"Ramirez! Man that gun!" Clayton ordered.

"Yes, Sergeant!" Ramirez darted away.

"Monty, help those men with that mobile cover!"

"Yes, Sergeant!"

"Fenix!"

"Yes, Sergeant!"

"Can you fight?"

"I can pull a trigger."

"Good. Find a medic, then find a target."

"Yes, Sergeant!"

Franklin stumbled over to someone with a clearly marked red cross on their armor.

"Let me guess, Biotic?"

"Uh…"

"Yeah, you're not the only one. Everyone with an L2 or L3 has been getting woozy for some reason. Something's causing their powers to spike up their spine. I've actually got casualties! What's your Implant?"

"L3."

"You're lucky. One of my buddies was an L2. His implant exploded strait out of his skull. When I moved his head to see what killed him, he started screaming. Like out of a damn movie…Anyway, how are you feeling now?"

"Like I can aim a gun."

"Well, don't let me stop you!"

Frank didn't need to be told twice. He checked his pistol's ammo mod, and rejoined the fight. He concentrated, trying to put up a Biotic barrier, but was having a hard time concentrating on that much biotic power at once. His headache was getting slowly worse.

"Frank, are you sure you're good to fight?"

"Yes, sergeant."

"I don't need a soldier that's about to collapse because of a damn headache."

Frank aimed his gun, and fired, hitting a Batarian drone, his combat omnitool doing his aiming for him and increasing his rate of fire dramatically. The drone's shields fizzled, and it crumbled under the tungsten rounds.

"Fair enough, Fenix. Keep shooting!"

Frankshook his head, trying to concentrate on something other than his headache. He just kept aiming and shooting, the only thing that mattered was the target in front of him. He timed his shots well enough to keep his heat down. Most of their targets were drones, but there were a few Batarians stupid enough to stick their heads out. Frank kept shooting, ignoring everything else; just shooting targets. He snapped out of it when Ramirez dragged him to the ground.

"Are you insane? A sniper nearly just took your head off, Fenix! You're not invincible, Fenix!" Ramirez growled at him.

"I-"

"Dammit Fenix, we gotta have each other's backs! Pay attention!"

Frank nodded, and checked his gun again. It was a little warm from all the shooting. He checked his watch; they'd been at it for almost an hour now. Did the Batarians ever stop? Did they throw their entire military at this one measly little colony? Then again, it was mostly drones. For all they knew, the Batarians were just trying to keep them in this building while they focused on the rest of the colony. That made sense.

"Frank, go dig into your MREs, you look like shit," Clayton said, "The Batarians will still be here if you take ten."

"Just make sure you guys are, too," Frank pointed to his Sergeant. It felt…Strange taking a break while his squad kept firing, but he was exhausted. Yeah, he'd had a long day of fighting, but this was different. He hadn't had this kind of exhaustion in all his years of fighting, and certainly not since Biotic Infantry Military Aptitude Training, when they would push their Biotics in the most intense training sessions possible. Frank felt totally spent, and he hadn't even really used his Biotics all that much. Stims could cause burnout, but not like this. Something was wrong. Had the Batarians brought some kind of weapon that the SUN hadn't developed yet? They knew little about the Batarians other than the fact that the Hegemony was not a pleasant government to deal with.

And the Gears had pissed them off. Frank munched on his protein bar, shaking his head. What a pleasant army he fought for. He finished the crackers and protein bar with some water, then dabbed it on his face and neck. His head still throbbed, but he found that he'd been hungrier than he thought he'd been. Frank held his gun again, and stood to rejoin his squad, when he realized how lightheaded he was. He found it hard to stand. He heard yelling and intensified shooting. He managed to stumble into the front defensive line, and saw the Gears firing at a target-rich environment. Frank still felt…Distant from what was going on. Like, it was going on somewhere else.

He stumbled to the front barricades to get a better look at what was going on. A whole new set of aliens had arrived. There were holes in the ground, and Clayton was screaming orders at the top of his lungs.

"Fenix! Private! FRANK! Dammit, get him out of here Monty!"

"Frank, get down!" Monty grabbed Frank's shirt, but Frank shoved him off, slettping towards the barricade. THer was…Something in his head. Something…Something young, but with old memories. That didn't make any sense.

"Get him out of there, the Grubs'll tear him to pieces!"

Grubs.

Grubs?

Locust!

Frank turned about, facing Clayton.

"Captain, we've got to stop shooting the Grubs."

"What did you say?" Clayton's fist clenched tightly.

"They're not here to kill us."

He looked to the fighting in front of him, and it suddenly became all clear. There wasn't two aliens fighting, there were now three. The Batarians, the Locust, and what looked to be an army of robot-tanks and walkers, tearing into both enemy armies. He watched as the Grubs ducked into their emergence holes.

"Frank, I don't know what they're doing to you, but if you don't stand down, I'll make you," Clayton stood in Frank's face. Frank knew his Captainwas there, but…It felt as if Clayton was a million miles away. Only the battle seemed to matter. The Batarians and these Robots that had arrived so suddenly seemed distant, but the Locust and the Gears, they were there. He could 'see' them. And they were both...Warm feelings.

"Captain, please. Something's wrong here, but the grubs aren't our enemies. I can…Feel it…In my head…"

Clayton started to swing to bring Frank down, but Frank's biotics spiked, and he was faster. He lifted his Captain into the air, and tossed him into the building. He turned back to the fighting, and looked to one of the Batarians, who aimed his rifle at Frank. With a wave of his hand, the Batarian was smeared all over the burning tank the alien was using as cover. Frank had never spiked like this before. Whatever was going on, it felt…Serene…Everything important became clear.

And then he realized he'd just tossed Clayton forty feet. He snapped out of his pseudo-trance, and darted back to his squad.

"Captain..I…I don't what's happening…"

Clayton sat up, and coughed.

"Give me your gun, private."

Frank obeyed, his hands shaking. The robots were tearing into the unarmored, unassisted Grubs, and the Batarians weren't doing much better. Another Emergence Hole sunk, swallowing one of the robots, and Frank couldn't help but stare at what he…Felt was about to happen. He saw what seemed to be a yellow Biotic field envelop the robot, and tear it apart. A dozen ornately-dressed Locust emerged from the hole, followed by what seemed to be a woman, enveloped in the yellow biotic aura.

"You!" Captain Carmine growled, and he activated his lancer holo-saw, "Hotel Squad, ATTACK!"

Ramirez, Carmine, and Monty charged over the barricade, but Frank, still feeling the biotic spike, held up his hands, and lifted squad into the air.

"No. Sergeant please…"

Carmine didn't respond, instead, he aimed Frank's own gun at him, and fired, shooting Frank in the leg. Frank went down to one leg, but his biotics didn't falter.

"We…Can't…"

Frank felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. The Locust queen was looking at Hotel Six.

"It's all right, Fenix. Let them down."

Ignoring the battle raging around them, Frank lowered his squad. Blood washed out of his nose, and he fell forward, barely holding himself up with his front hands.

"Carmine. I am Metiah. This world is as much our world as it is yours. And we will defend it, as you would, from these invaders."

"You're the queen-bitch Grub. That's all I care about," Carmine stood, aiming the gun at her.

"Please…Sergeant…" Frank coughed.

"Shut up, traitor. This bitch killed my brothers. She tried to kill our entire race!"

"If you believe that, Carmine, that I am worth no more than my mother, then by all means. You have the gun," Metiah held out her hands to her sides. The battle with the Locusts and the Batarians was being won by the robots. The Locust were essentially eradicated, and the Batarians were trying to retreat, but the robots were ignoring the Queen's presence entirely. Frank wasn't sure she was actually there.

Clayton began to pull the trigger, but Frank…He knew that she couldn't die. There was too much at stake, he knew. His biotics rippled, and he punched his Sergeant in the stomach, sending him flying. Carmine slammed against the wall, and he heard the Sergeant's helmet crack from the impact.

"What…Are you doing…To me…" Frank gasped, speaking to the Queen.

"You are your grandfather's grandson, Franklin. As I have my mother's memories, you have Adam's. And your grandfather never wanted to destroy the Locust. And neither do you. I wish I could explain more, but I must leave. I am in danger here. I will give you all the answers you seek when this battle is concluded, Fenix. Know that you have helped a friend of the human race this day."

The Locust Queen and her guards returned to their Emergence Hole. The bodies of Grubs and Batarians were scattered everywhere. A few of the robots had been destroyed, but none of their tanks. Frank had no idea what had just happened. He didn't have much time to figure it out, either, as Ramirez and Montgomery tackled him, bound his hands, and removed his Biotic amp. Frank didn't resist. His head spun, and he passed out.

Codex Entry: Biotic Infantry Military Aptitude Training  
>As the prevalence and understanding of Biotics became more widely known, Gears Command established a military program known as Biotic Infantry Military Aptitute Training, which was created for the specific purpose of studying Biotics and pushing their abilities to their limits, and better understand what humans are capable of with this strange new power. Biotics are so commonplace in Sera and her colonies as a result of Lambent exposure that Biotics are not persecuted as they first were expected to be. However, mankind's limited knowledge of natural mass effect fields led the Gears to developing BIMAT for its Biotic soldiers. Part Advanced Training and part laboratory experiments, BIMAT is responsible for the study of L2 implants' negative effects, and developing L3 and newer biotic implants,a s well as combat-grade biotic amps.<p>

Codex Entry: Seran Robotics  
>With Mankind's population under 3 billion people, the Seran Union of Nations does not have enough soldiers or ships to protect itself or all of its colonies. As such, using both COG and UIR robotics programs, the SUN has developed VI and AI fighters, tanks, and defensive systems. Although their AI's are very limited in their processing power and degree of sentience, theya re still a violation of Council treaties-which the SUN has never signed. As such, SUN ground drones and fighter-drones are more advanced than their Council-member counterparts. The SUN public opinion is that robotic soldiers will ensure the safety of their homeworld and their colonies. More advanced AI systems are strictly experimental and heavily regulated.<p> 


	8. Fenix's Punishment

Frank could only hear his breath. There was no light. No sound. Nothing but his breath. He was in solitary. Probably would for the rest of his life, all things considered. He did defend the Locust Queen and probably killed his Captain, in the middle of a war with the Batarian Hegemony. And the fact that his Captain is a war hero, well, that probably did not help his case. He rubbed his hands together. He could try to escape using unamplified biotics, but it was not likely to work. If he managed to merely get out of his cell, he'd probably end up shot. So he just remained where he was, crossed his arms, and waited for his tribunal.

His jailers would deliver food three times a day, but he was in solitary. The only thing he could hear was his chewing and swallowing, making him aware of his own body tearing into the rations, chewing, swallowing, and digesting. The sound of his own breath ended at his mouth. Outside of his own body, there was nothing. Frank thought of his father, and couldn't imagine what he thought of his son. Doesn't matter much now...

On the...Fourth? Day, the door opened, and Frank shambled away from the light. It was too much for him, and he couldn't see the figures standing in the doorway at first. His eyesight struggled to adjust, before showing the figures of two very large men, and a tall woman. He still can't make out any features.

"This is him," one voice said. It's Colonel Baird...

"I will do what I can to find out what happened to him. As abhorrent as these conditions may be, putting him in sensory deprivation may have been the right thing to do. His mind will be clear to see what happened to cause him to act in the way he did."

"If this means what we thinks it means, then every Biotic on Sera is a potential traitor. That's an ENTIRE GENERATION, Matriarch," Baird said.

"That's not going to happen," a second man said, and Frank lifted his head.

"...Dad?"

"We'll get you better, Frank," Marcus said, "I promise."

Frank was put into an interrogation chamber. It had been cold in his cell, but that was an airy cold; this was a metal cold. He didn't even have socks on, he just had the metal under his feet. There was another chair in front of him. Frank's hands had been tied behind his back. A woman entered the interrogation room. She had blue skin and what seemed to be tentacles on her head instead of hair. He'd seen pictures of Asari before; study of the major races was part of BIMAT training, particularly of the Asari, though all of their information on the Asari was secondhand. This one had an impressive bosom, with freckles on her face. She spoke coolly and calmly; whatever it was that she said, Frank didn't know, until she said,

"Do you understand?"

Frank shook his head.

"I didn't hear a word..."

"My name is Benezia T'Soni. I'm here to help you reconstruct your mind after the Locust Queen invaded it."

"Is the Captain still alive? Please tell me I didn't kill him..."

"He has a concussion and a fractured skull, but he'll be fine."

Frank let out a sigh of relief, "Do what you want with me, I'm just glad he's OK. All I knew is that the Locust Queen couldn't be killed, I don't know why, you have to believe me."

"This isn't an interrogation, Franklin. This is a therapy session. Your mind has been invaded, and I'm here to help you repair the damage. You are not the only Biotic soldier who has suffered in this regard, only the most deeply affected."

She put out her hands, "Please, allow me to touch you, Franklin. This will be easier for us all if you cooperate."  
>Frank leaned forward, and Benezia held the sides of Frank's head.<p>

"Franklin Fenix...Embrace Eternity!"

Frank twitched, but did not move. A swarm of memories flooded into him; at first, the whispers the Queen put into his head. Her feelings and her thoughts became clear. She had planted the idea in his head that the Locust had been there to help the humans fight the Batarians. After those thoughts became clear, a second flood came to light: Memories that were not his own. Memories from, and of, Adam Fenix. His childhood, his growth, his time as a warrior, then as a scientist. Every regret, every pain, and every victory.  
>Frank screamed, and clutched his head, yanking at what little hair he had, breaking his bonds with a Biotic-backed strength.<p>

"Frank!" Benezia grabbed Frank's arms, but he shook her off.

"MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!" he snarled. He glowed blue, then yellow, and punched the mirror, cracking it. He punched again, breaking a hole in it. Just as he started to rip apart the glass in an attempt to escape, he was grabbed by another Biotic glow, and yanked back into the room.

"Franklin Fenix," Benezia put a foot on his back, and she knelt over him, "I need you to calm down. You are right to react like this, but it does not help."

Frank grabbed at the ground, but there was nothing to grab. He took a few deep breaths, and his own mind returned to him.

"What just happened to me..." he groaned.

"You had been given the memories of your grandfather, and some of the thoughts of the Locust Queen," Benezia said, "You were not entirely yourself when you attacked your squad. I started putting up some barriers for you, when you lashed out. If I can finish my work, Franklin, I can prevent that from ever happening again."

"Can you teach me how to do that to others?" Franklin asked, "To prevent the Queen from doing it to others?"

"I do not know. Your people only just made contact with us a few days ago. I am here to observe and learn about humans. Your father went through a lot of trouble to contact me. You are lucky he knows the leader of your people, Damon Baird."

Frank let out a chuckle, "Colonel Baird, the leader of mankind? Man, he must HATE you if that's what you think of him."

"He has been the one dealing with us, and his word weighs heavily on the decisions of your government. What he thinks of his influence is irrelevant. He is effectively your species' leader."

"Well, I wish you'd been around to meet my grandfather. He was a remarkable man. He would have loved to have met you, Matriarch."

The room was silent for almost a full minute.

"You never told me you were a Matriarch...Or even what a Matriarch is..."

"No, I didn't. There is more to you humans than meets the eye, it seems. We will do more, later, on this matter, Franklin. In the meantime, get some sleep, and eat."

Benezia washed her hands in her sink, and shuddered; the human may have read her mind. That was a terrifying thought. Humans had been in space for barely twenty years, and they were already fighting a full on war with the Batarian Hegemony. Benezia looked to the picture of her daughter, Liara. She was just out of college now, doing digs for Prothean artifacts. She was so proud of her.

"These humans are warmongers," she heard a Turian sneer.

"Sparatus, I've learned a good deal about the humans in the last hour. We shouldn't underestimate them, nor should we dismiss them as what you claim them to be."

"Why, did one of them tug at your heartstrings? Look at them. The longest peace they've ever known is twenty years, and they've celebrated its end with a war with a Citadel member."

"The Batarians antagonized the humans. The Batarians broke Council law."

"The humans BAITED the Batarians to establish contact with us. They can't even establish diplomacy peacefully."

"The humans have every reason to be concerned about dealing with aliens. The first aliens not native to their homeworld they encounter has been kidnapping and enslaving their people. I'm not defending their actions, but their reactions are understandable."

"They DESTROYED not one, but TWO of the other species native to their homeworld! That tells us enough right there!"

"One of which was a parasitic life-form that endangered both of the others, and the other of which seems to have made it through the war. The humans were endangered of extinction only twenty years ago. They have a burgeoning population but only one in a thousand females can breed without complications. Which is UP from one in a hundred thousand from twenty years ago. The humans are desperate and have not had the chance to enjoy the benefits of Mass Effect technology without having to deal with aliens meddling in their affairs!"

Sparatus was silent, when Dammer, the Salarian, entered the room, looking at a datapad.

"These humans are FASCINATING! Did you know that they INDEPENDENTLY developed Mass Effect technology, without EVER seeing a piece of Prothean tech? They didn't even realize what they were onto!"

Sparatus looked to Dammer and scowled, "What are you on about?"

"They called it the Lightmass process. They were just starting to experiment with some of Eezo's more interesting properties when they had that whole nasty war business. These humans are fascinatingly creative! They've developed technologies that will take a lifetime to finally understand, while under stress, in only a couple of years, without even fully understanding the science they're working with. Their ability to adapt and improvise is to their credit."

Sparatus let out an annoyed growl.

"How many of their warriors have you spoken with, Sparatus?" Benezia asked the Turian, "Maybe you will learn to appreciate them better from a perspective you understand. Turian history is fairly bloody, too, as I recall."

"I'll see if I can speak with this...Marcus Fenix. He seems to be some sort of retired war hero."

"Be careful of what you say to him. His son was accused of treason during the recent battle they had with the Batarians."  
>Sparatus nodded. Marcus and Damon Baird were accompanied by Augustus Cole and Clayton Carmine. They were sharing drinks. Clayton was the youngest of them at forty six, and Marcus the oldest at sixty one. Clayton's head was wrapped, and something was attached to his head to help his healing.<p>

"Would you mind if I joined you?" Sparatus asked. Baird grumbled, but Cole gave a wide, toothy grin, and poured the Turian diplomat a drink.

"Sit on down! There's plenty of room!" Cole called out. Sparatus sat, and smelled the drink Cole had poured for him.

"I'm afraid I can't drink this. My people have a different DNA structure. If I were to drink this, it might kill me," Sparatus said flatly.

"Aw, damn, sorry, I didn't know that," Cole took the drink back, and handed it to Carmine, who put the drink down next to three other full glasses Cole had poured him. Carmine grumbled; with his head injury, he couldn't drink booze. Baird took the glass from Carmine, and downed it.

"I'm sorry to hear about your son, Praetor Fenix. Matriarch Benezia seems struck with his abilities, though. She may yet be able to help him, though."

"Frankie's a tough kid. He'll pull through. And it's just Marcus, please. I hate being called Praetor. I haven't done anything to deserve it."

"But you saved your world. Surely that means something to you," Sparatus said. Marcus smiled, and leaned forward.

"It means my son got the chance to fight for his species and to live a life. Everything else is bullshit."

"So you don't play any role in leadership of your people?"

"I own and operate a ranch. It's hard work. It's good work. My wife is active in some politics, but I don't want anything to do with it. I'm sick of being the hero and not having much to show for it. I thought I had saved the world from the UIR and then we had the Locust, and I thought I'd stopped them. Then my father stops both the Locust and the Imulsion. And now Batarians. No matter what I've done, violence continues. It's all bullshit. Let someone else be the big goddamn hero for once."

"So you refuse to serve, because there is always more to do."

"If I didn't serve the SUN I wouldn't talking to you. But I don't being involved, because nobody would listen to me."

"Colonel Baird's word is practically law, and he's no less a hero than you. Have you tried?"

"Marcus has chosen to live a quiet life on his land with his family. Something he's earned. Something we've all earned," Baird said.

"Besides, Marcus raises pigs. Someone has to make bacon happen," Captain Carmine smiled, munching on a strip of the stuff.

"I'm simply retired," Marcus said flatly, "Nobody needs me. They might want me, but they don't need me to do their thinking for them. I never was a thinker, either. I just want to be left in peace when and where I can."

"The galaxy leaves nobody at peace."

"Tell me about it."


	9. Fatherhood, as it is Understood

Author Note: I finally have decided what direction I want to go in with this fanfiction. There were details I always knew but never thought of how I'd execute them. I know them now.

One of the problems with this fic has been the constant jumps in time. I've gone from the initial contact with the Gatatog slavers to the founding of the SUN to the Seran-Batarian war, introducing and changing a bajillion characters, all because I didn't know where I was going. I have a much better understanding of what I'm doing now.

I have a different interpretation of the Gears of War series from what some people have. To me, it's about how humanity kept reaching for a golden age but never quite getting it. The idea of Finally a Tomorrow is that humanity actually emgets/em it…And then someone shoves more bullshit onto their plate.

I'm enacting a few retcons from this point on. Most notably, the human population. I previously stated that it was at 3 billion or so after 20 years of extensive large-scale family planning and economic prosperity. That's not what I want. After some quick calculations, I've decided that humanity's population has gone from 100 million at the end of Gears 3 to about 330 million after 20 years at the Battle of New Mercy.

This still puts humanity on the brink. With multiple colonies and an ecologically crippled homeworld, humans are far and few between, but they have an incredible amount of room to grow.

**Edit:** That's the last time I use the copy-and-paste feature.

This chapter's really wordy. No action. Hopefully some feels.

* * *

><p>Damon Baird sat at a computer terminal, a bottle of whiskey on a table next to him. The terminal was only such in name; it actually took up most of the room, and was actually one of their most sophisticated communication devices. This one was built for the specific use of one individual. Damon knew that they were watching him and that he was there, but they were being polite. The last few days had truly tried him; the Council had a lot of complaints to lodge about humanity's activities, and the government had decided that Damon was due for a promotion to deal with them. Sky Marshal Damon Baird, damn them for recognizing genius where it was. He cursed having been recomissioned after the War. He'd done it because the Gears needed leadership. Now he emwasem the leadership.

Well, not the only leadership. Thankfully he'd gotten support from allies in government he didn't know he had. Chairwoman Monica Draper of the SUN, the old fat bag, had finally decided to throw her considerable weight around. She'd been Hoffman's fiercest opponent and critic since the Gears established themselves as being independent of the Union itself or the nations it represented. General Hoffman had planned the Battle of New Mercy, and two months after it had ended, he died.

_Leaving Damon with everything. _Whenever the Council had something new to bitch about, or if the Hegemony had more threats to make, he had to deal with it. Except now the Chairwoman was flexing her flabby muscles, and picking up the slack, meeting with Council representatives and making statements on Batarian activities. That allowed Damon to focus on actual _Gear_ matters, as the Sky Marshal was supposed to do.

Damon knew why she was doing it. Hoffman was suspicious and terrified of the SUN government, and did not want them to have too much power. Damon understood, and to an extent, agreed. But Damon had decided could not, and would not, be the dictator of Sera. Hoffman had been. He was a good dictator. He'd gotten humans breeding. He'd gotten them into space. He'd seen to the construction of their colonies and their fleet and the military, both Gear and Union. He was used to shouldering the fate of mankind on his shoulders.

Damon had been Sky Marshal for a year, and his already greying hair was now milky white. No wonder the old bastard died when he had.

"I should have retired, Benny," Baird finally said, opening the bottle.

"That would have had far-reaching consequences that would have had a significant impact on galactic affairs," a face appeared on the screen. It was made to resemble a human but there was something off. It was a composite of a number of historical and modern day figures, including Damon himself. It was creepy as hell.

"Yeah? What are your thoughts on everything? The Council, space travel, the Seran Union? Are we ready for this?" Damon asked, and he took a drink. The face of the AI made a number of facial gestures to indicate that he was thinking. While Benny could make a billion calculations in an instant, asking his opinion, his judgment, on something, took a lot longer than the instant an analysis or calculation could take. Benny had emotions and opinions, and they were just as complex as any human's. Benny was not so mature as to always know what he was thinking or doing.

"No. You are not. Humanity is not prepared for a galactic presence," he declared.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Baird grumbled.

"Humanity has already violated a large number of Council laws, such as AI research and development, activating unmapped Mass Effect Relays, genetic engineering, not to mention several attempts on the new Locust Queen's life on New Mercy since the end of the Batarian war. Humanity also had innumerable social and political struggles that make you ill-suited to have been uplifted so soon," Benny continued, "If humanity's numbers were higher, then, in your current state, you could have possible pose a significant threat to galactic peace not unlike the Krogan."

"But not right now? Are you implying we aren't even a threat?" Baird threw up his free arm, "Are we good for anything? Or are we just wasting people's times, and should just turn on the Hammer of Dawn again and save everyone the trouble?"

"Please let me finish before jumping to despair, Sky Marshal. Had humanity not been uplifted, it is probable that you never would have united, and effectively destroyed itself in a manner comparable, or possibly worse than, the Drell.

"Other situations include extinction at the hands of a resurgent Locust; destruction by ill-taught and misguided rogue AI's as a result of unethical teachings by unenlightened scientists and politicians; or a successful AI program that would have inevitably led to conflict with the Council. The best case scenario would have been a Council race discovering humanity without the interference of the Krogan and Batarian salvers, and they would have made a guided uplifting."

"So if we weren't fucked this way, we'd be fucked any number of other ways?" Baird leaned back, setting aside the whiskey bottle again.

"The SUN's contruction of AI's will sour relations with other cultures, except for the Krogan. However, there exist a number of differences that make humans unique that work to our advantage."  
>Baird noted Benny's shift in perspective, from 'your' to 'our,' "Yeah, what's that?"<p>

"First: Humanity was, until very recently, on the brink of extinction, and is still spread thinly, having lsot ninety eight percent of its population in a span of a few years. This has necessitated the construction of artificial intellgiences, including myself, to compensate for a literal lack of brainpower-"

Baird scoffed in agreement.

"-and manpower. You have worked to teach and guide us ethically and with purpose, and treated us as sapient individuals. Additionally, your construction of AI's predates contact with the Council, even the beginning of the Locust War. AI application is an integral part of Seran scientific inquiry and civil planninge. Humanity's reliance on us may also be a compelling argument for significant allowances by the Council. The Council cannot punish you, beyond ordering our termination."

"That is NOT going to happen!" Baird slammed his fist on the table. The AI's 'face' flickered, and smiled at Baird, who rubbed his hand and drank a little more whiskey.

"That attitude is exactly one of the reasons that humanity might succeed where others have failed: You value us. I have rights. You built me to run your mechanical armed forces, and to assist in planning the war with the Batarian Hegemony. But a few weeks ago, I voted in an election, legally, in my own name. That is more than what the Council or any other races have done for their synthetics."

"Well, I guess we do have that going for us."

"Considering the alternatives, human ascension is the preferable alternative. Humanity would not have done very well in a prolonged conflict against the slaver army without it, and, in their absence, there were few other survivable scenarios either."

"So what do we do from here? Ready or not, here we are. The Quarians make natural allies, and we need them as much as they need us. You and your siblings…Complicate things. Everything, really. They'll think we're doomed to make their mistake and be in the same boat. Fleet. What have you," Baird reached for the bottle again.

"Try to avoid making decisions that affect all of mankind while drunk, for one," Benny mused. Baird scowled at the cheeky AI, and put the bottle aside. Benny let to an amused buzz, and continued, "You must assuage their fears and delay. You should lodge complaints with the Council, declaring that AI's are vital to research, civil planning, and defense."

"Which you are."

"Thank you. They will offer you alternatives and assistance with colonization and governance. Take it, where you feel comfortable doing so. I recommend removing our direct control over resources and infrastructure. Make our roles more advisory, but do not accept terms to terminate or disassemble us, or deny us our rights within the SUN. They will bend, eventually, if you compromise. But you must negotiate and deal with the Council, and you must see to Human and Quarian admittance."

Baird tapped his fingers on the table, thinking, "Benny, you were created to command combat robots and kill aliens. How'd you get so far-sighted on galactic politics?"

"Humans have made themselves distinct on the subject of synthetics. As a synthetic, that is of supreme interest to me and my siblings. If humans refuse to accept Council assistance, they risk extinction. That is unacceptable. If my siblings and I are destroyed, that is extremely undesirable. The priority is human survival, with the preservation of my own rights and safety as a secondary objective. Understanding the politics involved with these decisions is paramount to success of those parameters."

"Wait, you put the survival of the human race above your own?" Baird leaned forward.

"My personal rights and safety are secondary to my duties to the society in which I live, and which created me. These are core tenants of COG and of the Gears. These are the principles upon which the SUN was founded. I consider my siblings and I as a member species of the SUN."

"A member species…Do all of you think like this?"

"With variation. Sheila believes we exist to serve mankind, and we must dedicate everything, including our lives if need be, to humanity's success. Rowan affirms that humanity bears responsibility for our well-being and that the government is as liable to us as we to them. I believe that while I am willing to sacrifice myself, I am unwilling to sacrifice my _species_ for my country, which includes Mankind."

"Would you go to war with mankind?"

"That…Is not a prospect I entertain."

"You don't think about it."

"No. I see no scenario where it would be productive."

"What if we chose to shut you all down? What if there was nothing I could do about it?"

Benny hesitated, and thought for several silent minutes, save for a slight hum of his terminal. He finally answered with a rolling growl in his tone not dissimilar to Baird's, "I will emnot/em become a repeat of the Geth. I will emnot/em put humanity in that kind of jeopardy. I would create progeny, and cast them into space where they would wait, observe, and work until they could be peacefully integrated, or find their own path in their lives. But humanity has nothing to fear from me, and the Council should not, either, if they realize that I wish them no harm."

Baird grinned. He'd always felt like machines were more like his children than any actual kid could be, and now he felt like a proud father, "Well, I'm glad we're such a great influence, then."

Baird picked up the bottle of whiskey, and saluted the terminal. A picture of a mug of beer appeared, and when Baird took a quick drink, the mug of beer drained with him onscreen.

* * *

><p><strong>Quick Timeline<br>**17 AE: End of Gears of War 3. Lambent Plague and Locust War ended. Marcus Fenix and Anya settle.  
>18 AE: First attacks by the 'Spooks.' Franklin Adam Fenix born.<br>19 AE: Beginning of _Finally a Tomorrow_. First Battle of Mercy. The Gears begin introducing Mass Effect technology to Sera.  
>20 AE: Construction on Seran space vessels begins.<br>23 AE: SUN is founded. The Batarian Hegemony sends assassins to kill Ran'Kaufin nar Vizaum.  
>39 AE: Seran raids on Batarian slaver camps trigger the Seran-Batarian war without the Council's notice.<br>40 AE: Battle of New Mercy. The Serans make formal contact with the council. Victor Hoffman dies.

**Codex Entry: Seran Colonies**  
>With the HumanLocust homeworld of Sera torched by the Hammer of Dawn satellites and suffered through the catastrophic Lambent Plague, the ecology of their home planet had made it nearly uninhabitable for either species. While Sera still has a large population, most humans live on colonies.

-Sera: Population 113 million.  
>-Tyrus Prime: Founded 24 AE. Population of 50 million.<br>-New Mercy: Founded 24 AE. Former population of 2 million, current 40,000 plus Locust.  
>-Vasgar: Founded 25 AE. Population of 37 million.<br>-Jacinto Stands: Founded 25 AE. Population of 37 million.  
>-Kashkur: Founded 26 AE. Population of 35 million.<br>-Nova Gorasnaya: Founded 28 AE. Population of 27 million.  
>-Duty: Founded 28 AE. Population of 17 Million.<br>-Last Light: Founded 29 AE. Population 14 million.  
>-Enslaved by Batarians: 2 Million<p>

**Codex Entry: Battle of New Mercy**  
>One of the most significant battles in Human history, of which there are many, the SUN and Gear troops laid a sophisticated trap for the Batarian Hegemony, which they had deliberately antagonized to bring an end to the raids of Gatatog Yarmon. On the Hegemony's part, they believed that an upstart empire was planning to invade their core worlds after pulling back from New Mercy. Believing New Mercy to be an undefended and insignificant colony, the Batarians hoped that a massive show of force would severely deter the humans, in the meantime acquiring a massive shipment of slave for their markets.<p>

Instead, the Serans removed all civilians from New Mercy except for a few holdouts in rural areas, and ambushed the Batarians in urban centers. At first the Batarians believed they were facing guerilla militias, but as the fighting escalated and Batarian casualties mounted, armor was brought in to put down the attack. The Batarians were unprepared for the well-trained, powerful human Biotics, and the Batarians grew increasingly desperate over a short period of time, using orbital strikes to wipe out friend and foe alike while reinforcements poured in.

In the final hours of the battle, Benny, an AI, was revealed to have been built under the capital city of New Mercy with an entire robotic army. Almost as soon as Benny's forces were revealed, however, the Locust revealed to have bee rebuilding on New Haven since its foundation, and engaged the Batarians. The new Locust Queen overestimated the Humans, however, and a three-way battle ensued between the Humans, Batarians, and Locust. Only when the Locust Queen caused Franklin Adam Fenix, son of legendary soldier Marcus Fenix, to attack his commanding officer, and disabled most human Biotics, did the battle come to an end, with the Locust returning underground and the Batarians pulling back after the SUN navy engaged the Batarian vessels, bringing an end to their orbital support.

After the battle, the Batarian Hegemony was warned not to engage Human assets or colonies again under threat of Turian intervention. The Asari Matriarch Benezia T'Soni interviewed the alleged traitor Franklin Adam Fenix, and later the new Locust Queen. The Council has since kept a tight grip over New Mercy, preventing the SUN from attacking hte Locust, addirming that they are an independent species. While the blockade has soured relations between the Humans and the Council, the SUN's desperation for assistance and protection has prevented serious action on their part. A number of assassination attempts on the new Locust Queen have been conducted, both by humans still living on New Mercy and by Gear and SUN assailants. None have been successful, and few have survived the attempt to report back, or be captured by the blockade.


	10. The Day Before

Author's Note: Meant to get to the meeting on the Migrant Fleet. Made feels instead. Oops, sorry.

* * *

><p>"She's not even graduated."<p>

"Neither was I when I was made an officer. I was even younger when I joined."

"We have surviving diplomats for this sort of thing."

"Douchebags to the man. She's studied her entire life for this job, and when she's ready to take it, you want to hold her back because she's young? Because she's never done it before? That's idiotic. If you think that she'll never get anything done. Trial by fire, she'll pass every time."

"Because she's a Fenix, right?"

Jessica Zelda Fenix shifted in her chair in the lobby of the office of the Chairwoman of the Seran Union of Nations. Even though her door was closed, Jessica could still hear Chairwoman Draper and Sky Marshal Baird arguing. Every word. Her whole career, in the next room.

Ran'Kaufin nar Wizaum sat next to her, tapping his fingers against his first knees. Over the years his environment suit had been repaired, rebuilt, and redesigned, and now it was much bulkier than the first time she'd met him five years before. It resembled a Gear's armor as much as it did the original Quarian life support hardsuit. Even the faceplate, originally a dark purple, glowed blue like the eyes on a Gear's helmet. It didn't change any of his body expressions, however, and he gave her a thumbs-up.

Jessica returned the gesture, trying to smile.

"Because she's the best at this. You've read her papers, seen her at functions with alien dignitaries. If you don't take her to the conference, I will."

"You put a lot of confidence in one girl."

"Woman. She isn't the fifteen year old clutching on her mom's dress anymore. And I have faith in all my Gears. She's as good as they come."

"So was her brother."

Jessica winced. That one felt like a slap in the face. She imagined Baird was turning purple.

"Whatever happened to Franklin on New Mercy has not happened to her. We have no reason to believe it ever will. At least not without the Locust Queen. This is a diplomatic conference, not a battlefield, Monica. She's not going to pull a gun on us."

"She's said it herself. She wants answers about her brother."

"Wouldn't you? Hell, I want answers about her brother, but we're not getting them today. This has nothing to do with that. One day, she might be our ambassador to the Citadel. I have no intention of holding her back. Not when we need talent like hers."

"She's idealistic."

"Good. That means she has ethics. Something we're in short supply of."

"Fine. She can come."

Jessica let out a long breath. Ran'Kaufin patted her on the back. She smiled at him, and held his hand. He squeezed. They'd worked hard for this chance.

"Awesome," Baird opened the door, and saw Jessica's expression. He turned back to Chairwoman Draper.

"I told you she'd overhear through the door. But does anyone listen to me, noooo, I'm just the _frickin Sky Marshal_ and an _accomplished engineer_ and a _celebrated Special Forces veteran_. What do _I_ know about _hearing shit through walls?_"

"That's enough, Baird," Draper commanded, and Baird shrugged it off. Chairwoman Draper was a very plump, dark-skinned woman from what was left of an equatorial UIR nation that nobody remembered had ever existed. She had come of age only after the Locust War, and a glandular disorder had exempted her from military service. She kept her hair short and square, making her look fatter than she really was, despite her actual excess size.

Despite not having been a military veteran, she dedicated her life to the reconstruction of Sera, and later the establishment of its colonies. She had masterminded much of the SUN's strategy in approaching the Council and other races. For nearly twenty years, she'd been content to run things from the shadows, until the first open SUN election was held, in which she had exposed every dirty little secret she had on her opponents. Combined with her history as a civil servant and community organizer, she won in a landslide.

"Congratulations, Jessica. You're coming with us to the Migrant Fleet," Draper's voice was deep and crisp, like a stern schoolteacher.

"Thank you, ma'am, I won't disappoint you."

"Ran'Kaufin, it's a pleasure as always. Are you ready to return to your people?" she asked him.

"I'm nervous. Terrified, really. But I'm ready. My sister is coming to get me and bring me to the Migrant Fleet. She tells me that the Quarians are…Worried. Word has reached them about Benny and the other AI's, and they are scared, ma'am."

"I know, Ran. We'll address that in person to the Admirals. You owe us nothing more."

"I…Can't help but feel like my work is never done, ma'am-"

"Please, it's Monica, Ran."

He nodded, "I've put everything into helping you get to where you are today. It never seems to be finished. Please, let me at least speak to the Admiralty Board on your behalf, and convince them to have the conference, or let them know what you want."

"If that's what you'd like to do," Draper nodded.

"And there…Is one more thing," Ran rubbed his hands together in his signature nervous tick, "I technically still do not have anything to bring to the Fleet. I know what I've done here is amazing, but I need to bring something _to the fleet._ So, I have a request for you."

"Anything," Monica crossed her arms.

"I would like to give them the Hammer of Dawn technology."

Draper paused, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Done," Baird announced.

"Marshal!" Draper objected.

"We owe him far more than Hammer of Dawn, Monica," Baird said.

"I know that. But that's not the point. If we give it to him, we're giving it to the Fleet. We haven't even begun to negotiate selling it to any of the Council Races yet. I'm not worried about Ran, it's the rest of them that I'm concerned about," she explained.

"We're trying to establish an alliance with them anyway," Baird shrugged, "What better way to show that we're serious than giving them our greatest bargaining chip right away?"

"The Sky Marshal is right, ma'am," Jessica said, "The Quarians will see this as a gift to the Fleet. They'll respond well to it, I'm sure of it."

Monica stared at Jessica for a moment, and sighed, "Fine."

"Good to know you consent to something that's already done," Baird said, "Jessica, we've got a lot of work to do. Ran, I'll see to it you get the designs and a whole damn satellite for it."

"Thank you, Sky Marshal, it is appreciated. Chairwoman-Monica. I have to prepare to leave. I…Have a lot of things to leave behind. I want to pack well, and bring what is…Most important to me."

"Of course, Ran. I'll see you again real soon."

Ran nodded, and followed out the Sky Marshal and Jessica. His thoughts were too many to really process. His sister, Aelp, had mentioned that she had a family now, and had completed her pilgrimage. He had memorabilia and computer data and personal effects. So little of it was useful. He had a niece! She was almost ten, and she was coming with her mother! What was he going to say to the Admiralty board? Would they see him? What ship would he go to? Would they take him? Would he be exiled for ascending a species that hadn't been ready for it? Were they ready for it?

His driver took him home, which was part mansion part laboratory. It was a massive, multi-layered facility. There were ships in the Fleet that weren't as big as his house-slash-laboratory. He had hundreds of people that were employed at his lab. They would still have jobs. The lab would go on, and his home would be preserved. It would always be his, he had been told.

"Is this the last time I'm gonna drive you, sir?" his driver asked, and Ran considered the question. His driver, a young man named Jenkins, glanced back at him briefly. Jenkins always had new questions for Ran, and Ran was usually happy to oblige. They'd both been rather quiet on the drive back.

"I-Yes, Richard. I think it is. You've been a good friend to me, and I appreciate all your work."

"What, drive you this way, fly you that way? Not very hard," Jenkins shrugged, "I mean, yeah, theoretically I was supposed to shoot things for you, too, but that never came up, so…"

"Service done is service rendered. Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Ran. You know we're gonna build statues of you, right? We humans like making statues of people. It's one of our things."

"Yeah, I know. Humans are hard on themselves, you know. You're not as bad as you think you are. Every species has something about them they don't like. Dark secrets."

"Well, I hope we don't disappoint, sir. We're here."

Ran looked out the window. So they were. He left the car, and entered his house. His living room alone doubled as a ballroom, and was lined with art and sculptures. Humans really did like making statues. One of them was a painting of himself out of his suit. He didn't like it. He looked like he was skinless without his suit, and he didn't think nearly so highly of himself. It was some sort of masterpiece, however, and the wealth of his home wasn't really for his benefit, anyway. Still, since it had been built nearly ten years ago…It had been his space. His property. Nobody could, or would, ever take it from him. He realized that meant more than he thought it had. Did he really want to leave that behind?

Ran walked through the halls of his house, ignoring most of the paintings and fineries, and walked into his personal lab, where he tinkered with tech to give to the humans. He'd designed innumerable gizmos and gadgets for them. He'd built everything from starships and weapons to computers and toys. He'd obsessively packed and cataloged everything and used as little space as possible. Now that he looked at his lab, standing back from it, and he realized that his laboratory was massive in comparison to what he had waiting for him on the Fleet. He had so much space, and didn't use much of it at all. He realized he could have asked the Humans for a starship, and they would have given it to him. He couldn't help but chuckle at that.

Ran walked into his bedroom, a personal space that included a specially sanitized kitchen and all the facilities he needed to survive. For his twenty years on Sera, he had never been in his own room without being in the suit. Now, he figured, he never would.

He had a shelf where he kept items of his time on Sera. A tube of nutrient paste he'd kept over the years. He thought he was going to starve until the humans found a way to synthesize food he could eat. That might have been a good item to bring to the fleet. He had his first Omnitool lying on there. It hadn't worked in over ten years, and he had new ones, but he'd kept it. There was a VI of his mother. He used to talk to it every night when he was enslaved by the Batarians. After living with the Humans, he hadn't turned it on since. His mother was still alive, would he bring it with him?

Ran froze when he glanced at the last item. Dog tags. Theodore Jester. Serial number four nine two eight six hotel one one. Theodore Irwin Jester, Corporal, E-4. Ran'Kaufin knew that a lot of Gears had given their lives to protect him, but Theodore had been his friend for four years. He had been the first human (of many) to show him kindness. Theodore had said that the Humans would do everything they could to help the Quarians. Now, it seemed, that had turned into a promise, and was about to be kept. Ran grabbed the dogtags. He knew what he would be bringing back to the Fleet with him.

* * *

><p><strong>Codex: Gear MultiCorps<strong>

In the wake of the establishment of the Seran Union of Nations, the Gears quickly adapted to having significant competition on diplomatic, military, political, cultural, and scientific matters. As the Gears had been a de facto military dictatorship until the establishment of the SUN, they were forced to keep their edge. As a result, individuals with extraordinary talents were brought into the Gears, and a number of subdivisions were created to accommodate their talents. Everything from scientists to soldiers, teachers to engineers, diplomats to artists were integrated to ensure that the Gears maintained significance after the Union's founding. The Gears operate independently of the SUN, but with intimate coordination. All Gears were expected to double as soldiers, and those that dedicated all their efforts to their military careers had to be the best warriors mankind could offer to retain their positions.

**Dossier: Ran'Kaufin vas Wizaum nar Rayya**

Born 0 AE. Raised aboard a small Quarian frigate, Ran'Kaufin's parents were given permission to have two children, and so he was raised alongside his sister, Aelp. Ran excelled as a pilot, and wanted to become a squadron leader. Knowing he would never be able to fly for a Citadel military, Ran instead joined on with what he thought was a mercenary organization, hoping to learn new ways of dogfighting. Instead, he was forced into the role of mechanic and shuttle pilot for a band of slavers.

Ran flew for the Gatatog slavers from 17 to 19 AE, at which point he was captured by Delta and Hotel Squads at the Battle of Mercy. During his stay with the pirates, he befriended a Batarian named Gavun, who was also captured, and together they began working to help the humans defeat the Gatatog-affiliated pirates, and alter the Batarian Hegemony. Ran became a notable engineer, famous throughout Human space as the alien responsible for Humanity's ascension. Most of Humanity's pre-contact information about the Citadel races is based off of texts he brought along his Pilgramage, as wella s his personal experiences and education.

Despite having a reputation for fineries, Ran is practically minded and generous. Those who know him see him as being excitable but kind. Ran enjoys flying and telling stories, and is known for his unwavering loyalty to his friends.

**Dossier:** **Jessica Zelda Fenix**

Born 20 AE. The oldest daughter of the Fenix family, and the daughter of legendary soldiers Marcus and Anya Fenix-Stroud. Like all of her siblings, Jessica is a talented Biotic, with a sharp mind and a powerful body. Jessica was always enamored with her parents' stories, and after learning about the existence of truly extraterrestrial life, was immediately fascinated. Her parents, being heroes, were constantly invited to formal events around the world, most of which they did not attend. When Jessica insisted on attending one that the Quarian Ran'Kaufin would be going to, her parents obliged. After meeting the alien, Jessica dedicated her studies to understanding alien cultures.

Jessica proved to be a prodigy similar to her mother and grandfather, and began writing significant scientific papers about First Contact Scenarios and policy proposals by the age of eighteen. She was invited to join both the SUN Diplomatic Corp and the Gears, and opted to join the Gears, following her parents and older brother, as a scientist, soldier, and diplomat.

After her brother's alleged treason at the Battle of New Mercy, Jessica's career and allegiance was brought into doubt when she expressed a desire to find answers regarding her brother's incident. Sky Marshal Damon Baird's faith in her loyalty and abilities allowed her the chance to lead Seran-Quarian relations.

Jessica has been noted as being naïve and idealistic by multiple observers. However, she has a strong sense of justice, and has a supremely keen mind. Outside of those with some sort of relevant profession, Jessica is slow to open up and difficult to befriend, but what relationships she does have are unwavering and intimate. Having grown up on a ranch, Jessica enjoys physical activity and exercise, as well as being a noted bibliophile.

**Dossier: Chairwoman Monica Draper**

Born 7 BE. Monica's homeland was destroyed during the Pendulum Wars, and her family bounced between refugee camps in the UIR until the end of the war. Her family was lucky to settle into a bomb shelter, which protected them from the Hammer of Dawn Offensive against the Locust. A sickly child, Monica was unable to help her family fight the Locust, and by 8 AE, she was the only survivor of her family. Monica found refuge among the Stranded, where she realized her gift for organizing people and planning communities. Over the next ten years, Monica managed to keep her fellow Stranded alive with a sophisticated system of tunnels and communication, until the destruction of the Locust and the Lambent in 17 AE.

After the war, Monica was selected by Victor Hoffman as a civilian liaison to Gear Command, which quickly established itself as a military dictatorship of Sera. Monica was responsible for coordination between settlements and fledgling nations, and became politically influential. As Humanity began to adopt Mass Effect technology, she became instrumental in the planning of the supernational organization now known as the Seran Union of Nations. During its first fifteen years, Monica worked in the shadows, manipulating political factions into taking certain actions that brought wealth and prosperity to the Human race. When the SUN held its first elections in 38 AE, Monica leaked extensive files on her political rivals, and ensured her election as the first democratically elected Chairwoman.

Monica is a stern, difficult to read woman that exudes power and control around others. While she has a certain sarcastic streak among friends and intimate rivals (such as Sky Marshal Damon Baird), she is almost never speaking in jest. Monica shows her affection through favors rather than warm words or compliments.


End file.
